


Critical Flaws

by SassySnowperson (DramaticEntrance)



Series: Lyra Lives [3]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: (Chapter by Chapter basis), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, But as the timelines diverge things get less recognizable, F/M, Lyra Erso Lives, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sort-of A New Hope Rewrite, aka characters deal with their canonical traumas, implied alcohol abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 05:26:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 50,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16947870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramaticEntrance/pseuds/SassySnowperson
Summary: As the Erso family settles in with the Rebellion, frustrations mount as the Rebellion refuses to do anything about the threat of the Death Star. In the absence of official response, an unofficial one may be the galaxy's only hope…Now Complete





	1. Bodhi

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go! This story has been planned for nearly two years, and has been in edits for a year now. I'm so thrilled to finally be posting it. 
> 
> Many thanks to [Aeshna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshna/) for being a sounding-board, a cheerleader, and a diligent beta. This universe wouldn't exist without you.

* * *

Bodhi Rook was doing fine, mostly.

He was fine so long as he could ignore the clawing anxiety that kicked at his heart and nestled in his throat, as long as he could keep talking and keep moving. 

So long as he didn’t pay too much attention to the screaming nightmares, as long as he rolled over and got back to sleep.

So long as he ignored the fact that everything he had ever known from his childhood had been burned to ash and buried under rubble. So long as he ignored the fact that everyone he had ever known and loved was either dead or fine without him. 

He was fine, really. 

Everyone went through shit. That was just the way life went. He could spend time wallowing in the destruction or he could keep moving. Move on.

It’s not like things were bad _now_. He was safe. He wasn’t with the Empire any more. He wasn’t a cog in a machine, drawn into horrors step by slow step. He was free. 

Freedom came with some powerful perks. 

“Target lock, beginning run,” Bodhi heard Green Leader say. He tightened his hands on the yoke, threw the ship down into a dive, sky above him becoming sky behind him as the horizon rolled away. He followed the taillights of Green Three in a tight wedge, tip to stern, presenting a small target to any ground based gunning encampments. Bodhi licked his lips and readjusted his grip, adrenaline making his hands clammy against the synthleather of the yoke. 

At five hundred feet, the TIEs rose to meet them and the formation burst apart. Bodhi’s heart was pounding as he found a lock on one, took the shot, and whooped as he watched it spiral into the dirt below him. Another TIE at his three o’clock, and Bodhi flipped the X-Wing in a screaming turn, finding a lock and lighting it up. 

Bodhi whooped a wordless cheer, and looked for the next target. 

The next target found him first. Turbolaser fire crashed into his lower left wing and the X-Wing kicked underneath his handling. Bodhi grit his teeth, forcing himself to focus through the panic edging in around his eyes. He wrestled the ship into submission, flipping switches to try to vent coolant over the wing to adjust for the flames. It didn’t work, the flames crept up into his engine, and in a matter of seconds— 

SIMULATION OVER. 

Bodhi swallowed hard as he looked at the black screen, accusing green letters crawling across it. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes and breathed, hard and fast, one, two, three harsh inhales and exhales. 

_stupid failure can’t do anything right can’t shoot can’t dodge there’s a reason the Empire never let you fly TIE fighters you should have turned down the pilot slot you should have flown shuttles you piece of—_

Bodhi set his hands down against the console, took one more breath in and out, and opened the simulator door. 

“Hey, Rook, not too shabby. Got two of the bastards!” Biggs called from across the room. 

Bodhi flashed a grin over at him. “There’s always a third, though.”

Biggs walked over, slung an arm over his shoulder. “Always. That was a nice turn, though. Considering you’re trained on shuttles, you really can make an X-Wing dance!” 

Bodhi laughed, ducked out under Biggs arm. “Eh, maybe I should go back to shuttles. I’d get shot at less.” 

“Ah, but then I wouldn’t be able to kick your ass in sims! Gonna watch my run? Learn how to do things right?” Biggs stepped up to the simulator. 

“Of course!” Bodhi said. “Gotta figure out how to avoid all your mistakes.” 

Biggs made an injured noise, clapped his hand dramatically to his chest, and entered the simulator. 

Bodhi looked around to see who else was in the room. Nobody. He stopped taking the effort to smile and pulled up his datapad. One eye on Biggs' performance, just enough to give him something to harass Biggs about, he pulled up the stats for his own flight. If he went over it enough times he could figure out how he failed, keep him from making the same mistake again. If he worked hard enough he could avoid being dead weight in the Rebellion.

Bodhi was fine. He had an X-Wing. He was getting to fly. He liked his fellow pilots. What more could you really want?

* * *

Shara Bey stuck her head into the small training room. “Newbie,” she said, a dry cheer in her voice, “there you are. You are aware it’s Green’s day off, right?” 

Bodhi put his datapad down, looked up at her, casual smile on his face again. “I’ve got to work twice as hard to catch up to you, Bey. But you keep taking days off, I’ll get you sooner or later.”

“First of all, you’ll never catch me, so don’t give yourself an unreasonable goal. Second, and more importantly, if you don’t actually take time off you’re going to burn out. Come on. We’re getting drunk.” 

“I’d rather not,” Bodhi said. “Alcohol doesn’t sit well with me anymore.” 

He had learned that the hard way, one of his first nights on base. He had taken a couple shots of some neon blue liquor to try to deaden the horror of the past few days. But tipsiness had led to his mind getting jumbled, echoes of tentacles writhing through his brain, twisting up his thoughts. 

Bodhi had realized he was maybe five minutes out from having a screaming breakdown in the middle of a Rebellion breakroom. In a blur, he had managed to grab the bottle of liquor and lock himself in his quarters, drinking to blackout drunk before the ghost of the Bor Gullet could get any more tangible. 

He woke up the next morning covered in his own vomit with no clear memory after the first desperate gulps. He took a shower, went down to the med-bay, begged some treatment for the hangover with a rueful grin, and resolved to never drink again.

It had worked so far. But Bodhi could feel how fragile his mask was; he lived in terror of the day that it stopped holding together. 

Today, though, Shara didn’t seem inclined to push. She gave a little shrug, before saying, “Okay, but you’re not staying in here. You play cards? Gravdarts?” 

Bodhi stared at his datapad, realized it probably wasn’t going to give him any more answers. And it’d be suspicious if he hid away for too long. “I’ve enjoyed some Sabbac in my time.” 

“Oh _really_. Well, come on then, cardshark. I’m sure we can rustle enough people up to play a hand or two.” 

* * *

Bodhi arched his eyebrows and smiled a lazy smile over at Wedge Antilles. “Come on, Corellian. We haven’t got all day. Raise your bet.” 

Wedge narrowed his eyes at Bodhi. “Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Don’t think I haven’t seen you shifting in excitement over your hand.” Wedge looked around the table and sighed. “I know when to cut and run. Fold.” 

The table groaned as Bodhi reached forward to grab the pot. 

Shara reached over and flipped his cards. “Eleven!” 

“What?” Wedge flipped over his own seventeen, a solid hand. It would have beaten Bodhi’s eleven handily. If he had stayed in the game.

Bodhi grinned. “I did tell you to raise.” 

Wedge groaned, and Bodhi rolled one of his newly-won chips over his knuckles. “Come on, I’ll give you the chance to win it back.” 

“Rook,” came a voice from behind him. 

Bodhi started and turned, feeling a little guilty when he found General Merrick, Blue Leader and Commander of the entire Massassi Group, standing there looking serious. Bodhi wasn’t entirely certain how the brass viewed fleecing his fellow pilots out of their paycheck, but he could guess it wasn't positively. 

Merrick said, “We’ve got a visitor, they’re requesting a meeting with you.” 

Bodhi’s heart sank. He was sick and tired of debriefing. He had given the Rebellion everything he knew twice over again. But it wasn’t like he had any other plans for his life. If he didn’t manage to keep the Rebellion happy with him…

“Of course, sir,” Bodhi said, quickly standing. 

“Aw, come on,” Biggs groaned. “Rook was thrashing Antilles, and that doesn’t happen very often. Few more rounds and the credits would have run out. We’d finally get to see what he looks like without a shirt!”

Various catcalls nearly drowned out Shara’s grumpy addition. “Rook was taking a break from the damn sims, _that_ doesn’t happen very often.” Shara folded her arms and glared at Merrick. 

Merrick held up his hands, a tiny smile on his face. “While I am always in favor of Antilles being taken down a peg or two, it’s going to have to wait. Sorry, Rook.” 

“It’s no problem, sir,” Bodhi said, stress piling up in his chest as he thought about who this mystery guest might be. Still, there was a certain warmth to the fact that the other pilots wanted him around. Feeling generous, and a little worried he had been too hard on them, Bodhi pushed his winnings back to the center. “You all figure out how to divvy this up.” 

As they left, Bodhi stiffened, uncomfortable in the presence of a senior officer. Rebellion officers were far less inclined to murder than their Imperial counterparts, but old habits died hard. Brass was dangerous, it was always best to fly in under the radar. Merrick’s easy pace alongside him did nothing to quiet the alarms in Bodhi’s head. 

_this is it they figured it out I’m an imposter they’ve made a mistake they didn’t want me they never wanted me I’m going to be thrown into a holding cell for the rest of my life because I’m useless I’m worthless I’m_

“You seem to be settling in well,” Merrick said. 

Bodhi pulled himself away from his internal catastrophe. “Yes. I mean, I suppose.” 

“Son.” In anyone else’s mouth it would have sounded demeaning. But Merrick carried with him an earnestness that wrung any possible insult out of the word. “The adjustment here is hard enough. But you’ve had a hell of a time of things. Nobody is going to blame you if things are a little rocky.” 

“I’m thrilled to be given the opportunity.” 

Merrick reached the end of the hallway, the door beyond opening to rooms Bodhi knew he didn’t have the clearance to go into. As Merrick keyed in a code, he said, “I think you might have that backward. Kass would call for my head if I tried to pull you from Green now. She’s got nothing but praise for your atmosphere work.” 

Bodhi swallowed hard, not certain how to handle a compliment. He had managed to fool them so far. Hopefully, by the time they caught on to how miserably ordinary he was, it’d be easier to keep him around. 

The door slid open with a hiss and Merrick gestured him through. “Would you like me in there with you?” 

Bodhi shook his head. “No, sir, that’s fine.” He really couldn’t justify taking up any more of the General’s time. 

“Very good.” 

Bodhi walked into the room and the door hissed shut behind him. He had been half expecting this to be an interrogation room, all duracrete walls and flickering, stark lights. This was...not that room. 

There were some flickering lights, but they came from a small fireplace, tucked in the corner of the room. Two comfortable chairs and a small couch were set up around the fire. The rest of the room was dominated by a functional-looking desk with a holoprojector on top. The only other person in the room was a careworn man in brown robes, standing behind the couch. 

The man straightened as he saw Bodhi. “You must be Rook.” 

“Yes. That’s me. And you are…?”

The man took a couple steps toward Bodhi. “B—Obi-Wan Kenobi. I’ve recently joined the Rebellion forces. I’ve heard quite a bit about you.” 

Something about the man felt familiar to Bodhi. It was an aching sort of familiarity, tied to long-buried knowledge. Bodhi couldn’t place it...until he saw the silver cylinder hanging at the man’s waist. Then the memory of those robes slid into place, old teachings in old places about old powers. 

“You’re a Jedi.” 

Obi-Wan Kenobi arched an eyebrow. “Yes. I expected you to be too young to know what that was.” 

Bodhi twisted his hands together, looking down at the way his fingers grabbed at each other. “I’m Jedhan.” He blinked, hard, never taking his eyes off his hands. “At least I was.” 

Could he be Jedhan, if there wasn’t a Jedha anymore? 

“And still are, to my mind. I know I’ll always be a Jedi. Even if the place that formed me was destroyed.” 

Bodhi nodded, looking back up at Obi-Wan. “What am I doing here? I don’t mean to be rude, but…”

But there had to be someone more interesting for a Jedi Master to speak with than a broken pilot from a broken world. 

“Please, sit.” Obi-Wan gestured toward the couch. “You're not being rude at all.” As Bodhi carefully made his way around the couch and perched gingerly at the edge of it, Obi-Wan sat down in one of the chairs. “I was hoping to speak with you about your defection.”

Bodhi swallowed and nodded. 

“Why did you agree to carry the message for Galen Erso?”

“It needed to be done. Once I knew what we were working on…” Bodhi answered, nearly rote at this point. The searingly painful reality of the situation was nothing more than words. He could handle words. “Once I knew that, and I found out Galen had a plan, there wasn't any other option. Nobody should have a weapon like that.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “And why did you trust Galen, when he said he said he had a way to stop it?”

“I had worked with him for several years at that point.” Bodhi sighed, remembering that the Jedi likely already had the story. “And we were sleeping together. He had already trusted me with secrets. This felt like a natural extension.” Bodhi squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn't certain why he hated saying it as much as he did. Galen's wife already knew, and was bizarrely compassionate about it. Galen's daughter knew, too, and while she was much more understandably angry, she had at least decided not to kill him.

“So you trusted him because he had trusted you first.” 

“I trusted him,” Bodhi took a shaky breath, unable to keep his emotions entirely under control, “because he had proven himself to be kind and noble and clever and responsible. I trusted him because I liked him. I still trust him. Galen has never given me reason to doubt him.”

“Ah, but that's not entirely true, is it.”

Bodhi clenched his hands into fists and glared at the Jedi. 

Undaunted, Obi-Wan continued. “He used you. He sent you into terrible danger.”

“It's hardly like he could go himself. I knew the risks.”

“You didn't. You couldn't.” 

Bodhi turned away from Obi-Wan, flinching like he had been struck. 

Taken captive. Marched for miles, no water. Tied to a chair. A monster unleashed on his mind. Violated. Eaten up. Spat back out. Forgotten in a cell. Set free to watch his world die.

No. He hadn't known. 

“Galen couldn't have known the risks either. He hadn't been in contact with Saw Gerrera for thirteen years. We both knew it was dangerous. But neither of us could know just how dangerous it was.” Bodhi believed that. He had to. 

“Very well,” Obi-Wan said. “But you must wonder how much of his affection for you was designed to manipulate. He needed a messenger.”

Bodhi glared over at Obi-Wan. “You're being cruel now.”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan looked sad. “I am. I'd still like to know the answer.”

“No. I don't wonder. I know.” Bodhi looked away from the Jedi, turning his eyes to the fire. He hoped the flames would grant him some measure of distraction. “Galen was clear when we started—he had a wife that may be dead, that he certainly never expected to see again, but that didn't change the fact that his heart was hers. I was never going to be more than a comfort. His intentions toward me have always been straightforward.”

Bodhi cleared his throat, sitting up straight and looking over at Obi-Wan again. “If Galen Erso’s only goal, or even his primary one, was to ensure I took the message, there are ten thousand ways he could have done so more effectively.” Bodhi was snapping out the words by the end, finishing with a pointed, “Does that answer your question?” 

Obi-Wan nodded. “It does. I am sorry to have brought up painful thoughts. The questions were important, however. Galen Erso is a controversial figure, it’s important that we understand him. In many ways, you are the person that knows him best.”

Bodhi let out a shaky breath, abruptly realizing how tense he was and forcing himself to relax. “I don’t know about that. He and I...we were ports in the storm. In a world that saw us as Imperial tools, we saw each other as people first. So when he told me I could make a difference...that Bodhi Rook could help set things straight...I believed him. I don't regret that. I just wish it hadn't been too late.”

“That remains to be seen. I doubt it was too late. I suspect your journey may yet bear fruit.”

Bodhi gave a bitter smile. “Tell that to Jedha.”

Obi-Wan looked very tired. “Indeed. I should have thought before I spoke. Apparently I am cruel even when I'm not trying to be.”

Bodhi felt some tiredness run through him as well, the last of the tension swept aside by exhaustion. “Let me know if you find a way to discuss it kindly.” 

Obi-Wan leaned forward, staring at the fire. “It won’t end with Jedha.” 

Bodhi sighed. “I know. That’s why I’m still here. We’ve got to try. If the leadership would ever get off their asses and let us fight the real threat -” Bodhi’s eyes went wide as he realized what he said, darting a glance over to Obi-Wan. “Not...not that I’m—”

He was comforted by Obi-Wan’s smile. “Why don’t you let me see what I can do about that part. In the meantime, stay vigilant. I'm certain we will need you.”

“I'm one pilot. Don't pin too much on me.”

Obi-Wan gave a tiny smile, and looked enigmatic. “The Force is with you, Bodhi Rook. We will see what comes of it.”

* * *

As Bodhi let himself out of the room, all the jittery tension keeping him moving and talking snapped and evaporated. He slumped, swaying on his feet as even standing became an exhausting task. 

“Ah. Hello,” came a voice from just in front of him. Bodhi jumped, the tension back in a second, eyes flying up to find Galen, scarce feet away from him in the hallway. 

Everything in him sang at Galen’s presence. Bodhi had to watch his traitorous body carefully, make certain his hands didn't reach toward Galen, his eyes didn't rake over Galen too obviously, his feet didn't carry him into Galen's arms. There was a beacon in Bodhi's chest that always pointed toward Galen as home. 

It hadn't got the message about the recalibration. Galen had never been his to keep. 

“Hi.” Bodhi failed at keeping a smile off of his face.

There was an answering smile across Galen's, soft and fond. Bodhi railed at the unfairness of the universe, that Galen would still smile like that at him. It would be easier to stay away if he could have convinced himself that the affection had also died. 

Bodhi wished the idea of being a distant second in Galen's heart didn't sound so appealing. To have a piece, even if he couldn't have the whole. Bodhi wondered, if he stepped closer, if he slid his hand around Galen's neck, if he tugged Galen back into a corner, if he slid down and unbuckled Galen's pants...when would Galen stop him?

Would Galen stop him?

Bodhi stopped himself. 

It was one thing, falling into Galen's bed when Galen’s only connection to his wife was memory and tattered hope. It was another to lure Galen to infidelity now, when that same wife had fought through hell and back to save him and taken her rightful place next to him. 

Besides, Lyra seemed wonderful, sharp humor and surprising kindness, all wrapped in deadly competence. She had treated Bodhi far better than Bodhi ever expected. She didn't deserve that.

Bodhi forced his tone to be casual as he said, “Good to see you!” This was followed by a slightly too quick retreat down the hallway. 

He slowed once he rounded the corner, trying to ignore the ache that ate at him. There was a hollowness that started at the top of his stomach and coiled around his spine, choking at his heart. Bodhi was hurting, and the only person he trusted enough to fix it was the same person his fool heart had decided to shatter over in the first place. 

Bodhi made his way back to his room, pulling up short as he found Biggs Darklighter sitting next to his door, legs sprawled across the hallway. He seemed to have nodded off, hands folded over his chest and chin tipped against his chest. Bodhi nudged Biggs’ legs with his feet.

Biggs opened one eye then gave a lazy stretch. “Hey, Rook, was hoping to catch you.”

“That's a bit obvious.” Bodhi gestured at Biggs’ sprawling. 

Biggs struggled his way to his feet. “Just wanted to let you know, we figured out how to divvy up the pot.” Biggs tossed a bag at Bodhi. The chips inside clattered together, and he staggered at the weight.

“Um. That's not what I meant when I—”

“You won it fair and square. Everyone agreed. Next time we'll be a little more cautious around that grin of yours.”

Next time. Huh. 

Bodhi shifted the bag to one hand. “Guess we'll see if I can’t get Antilles’ shirt off for you.”

Biggs laughed. “Ah, don't take it too seriously. Wedge is just fun to rile up. So serious. Of course,” Biggs body language shifted, leaning in and lowering his voice, “if you wanted to get my shirt off, all you have to do is ask.”

Bodhi arched his eyebrows, unimpressed. “Is that supposed to be a line?”

Biggs leaned back again, eyes sparkling and mischief in his grin. “Did it work?”

Bodhi shook his head. “I'm not really…”

Bodhi looked at Biggs and stopped his automatic rejection. Biggs wasn't bad looking, ridiculous moustache aside. He had an easy humor, boisterous and loud and cocky the way only a pilot could be. He had swagger and charm. 

Bodhi was so lonely it was eating him alive.

Biggs was nothing like Galen.

Perfect.

“…looking for anything serious right now.”

“Well thank the Stars for that, because that's not what I'm offering.” Biggs leaned forward again, gently setting his hand on Bodhi's forearm. “It's a short life, Rook. There's a war on. Might as well have some fun before we blaze out.” Biggs shrugged. 

Bodhi toggled his door open and gestured Biggs through. Biggs stepped in with a sultry look, grabbing at the front of Bodhi’s shirt and tugging Bodhi after him. Bodhi plastered on a calculated grin and went. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bodhi is having a rough time of things. I promise, it gets better for him. Eventually. Gradually. Healing is complicated. 
> 
> Check back on Wednesday for the next chapter! 
> 
> Got questions? Want to yell? Leave a comment here, or, [find me on Tumblr.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sassysnowperson)


	2. Galen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With continuing thanks to [Aeshna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshna/) for the beta

* * *

Galen stepped through the door to his quarters, pinching the bridge of his nose in hopes that it would drive back some of the headache threatening to overwhelm him.

“You alright, love?” Lyra asked. 

Galen was once more momentarily overwhelmed by the sense of wonder that came from the fact that Lyra was _here_. He walked over to where she sat cross-legged on their bed and stood next to her, stealing a kiss just for the joy of it. Lyra leaned into the kiss, a contented hum in her throat. 

Gradually, they were remembering how to fit together again.

“I just had an interesting conversation.” Galen sat down on the bed next to her. “I’m not certain how it went.” 

Lyra tensed. “Is this a, ‘Lyra, time for you to steal that U-Wing you keep talking about and get me out of here,’ sort of a conversation?”

“No...I don’t believe it is. I just spoke with a Jedi.” 

Lyra dropped her datapad. “They’re all gone.” 

“Not all, apparently. He wore the robes, and had a lightsaber. Do you know the name Kenobi?”

“The Negotiator?” Lyra’s eyes went wide.

“The very same.”

“I shouldn't know this. You definitely shouldn't know this. This could change the course of the war. They…they would only let us know if they had decided to trust us or were planning on killing us.” Lyra’s hands clenched into fists. “Gale. They don't trust us.”

“I think there's a less sinister explanation, Love. The Jedi are myths. How many in the Rebellion once took their lunch at the Jedi Temple? You are unique in being able to identify the name.”

Lyra looked skeptical.

“Besides, I believe trust was the entire reason he was speaking with me. He kept asking questions about the honesty of my devotion to the cause. Lots of questions about why I defected. I may have gotten quite...passionate about you and Jyn.”

Lyra smiled over at him. “Did he get to see you all fire-eyed? That doesn’t happen often.” 

Galen brushed his hand against Lyra’s cheek. “My love, I nearly engaged in poetry.” 

Lyra leaned into the touch. “The horror.” Then she grew more serious, leaning back. “Does he know about our plan?” 

Galen shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. He asked what I was doing for the Rebellion now. I did admit I was trying to recreate the schematics. He seemed disapproving of the idea that the mechanics for the weapon would be disseminated. I reassured him that I wasn’t trying to create an instruction manual for building one, merely for destroying it. The conversation moved on from there. But…he’s a Jedi. Who knows what he pulled out of my mind?” 

“Well…I suppose there’s nothing to do but press forward.” 

Galen nodded. “That was my conclusion as well. I hope that he saw how genuinely I want that weapon destroyed, if not the specifics of how I’m going about it.” 

“I think it’d be hard for him to miss.” Lyra gave Galen a long look. “I'm a little jealous, you know. Talking with Chirrut...I realize how much I've missed that old peace. It would be nice to connect with a Jedi.”

“He may stay around. He didn't say how long he was here for. If you wanted the chance to meet with him…”

“Don't be silly. On the off chance you didn't tip him off to our secret plan to destroy the weapon regardless of official approval, I'm not going to give him another shot at it.”

“Probably for the best.” Galen looked off to the side. It was impossible to know what the Jedi had pulled from him. He wasn’t as controlled during the meeting as he would normally have been. Part of that was the subject matter, but aside from that…

He hadn't been expecting to see Bodhi come strolling out of the meeting room and light up at seeing him. For a moment, Galen had been back on Eadu, Bodhi's easy grin the only joy in his day. He had nearly reacted on instinct, stepping close and curling a hand around the man’s waist, holding Bodhi with his gaze until Bodhi gave that little shiver Galen adored and surged into a kiss. 

He was derailed from that happier train of thought when Bodhi's smile became strained. Bodhi had given a quick greeting and walked away with no small amount of speed.

Lyra grabbed his chin and dragged his face around to look at hers. “What aren’t you telling me? Did something bad happen?” 

Galen gave a rueful smile. Lyra was entirely too perceptive. “No, love. I was just remembering, I believe the Jedi interviewed the pilot before he spoke with me. We passed each other. It was unexpected.” 

“That doesn’t explain the worried face.” 

“Ah, he just...left rather suddenly. And I am once again reminded of the horrors he went through on my behalf. It's never an easy thought.”

Lyra let go of his chin, making a vaguely disapproving grunt. “Have you actually talked to him about it?”

“He couldn't stand to be in my presence for more than a couple of seconds. I'm not going to inflict that on him.”

Lyra frowned. “I still think you should—”

“I know. But I'm not going to hurt him further.”

“We need a pilot, Galen. He's the best option.”

Galen stiffened. “I thought we had agreed to drop that.” 

“For the moment, I said. This is a new moment.”

“My answer hasn't changed. We will find another link with the pilots. I'm not going to use him any more than I have.”

Lyra opened her mouth like she was going to say something more. Galen braced, hands curled around his knees. He hated arguing with Lyra. He'd give her the world, the universe, if she asked. But this was the one point he was unwilling to budge on. 

He had abused Bodhi's trust terribly. The least Galen could do was give him peace now. 

But instead of further argument, Lyra went quiet next to him. She reached over and covered one of his hands with hers. Galen looked over at her and she said, “You're wrong, but I'm willing to be done fighting about it for now.”

Galen couldn't help his chuckle, and he reached for her. Lyra tensed, ducking her shoulder away from him and her arm coming up to block. Galen froze, his hand mid-air, waited until Lyra dropped her hand, groaning.

“Ugh. I’m sorry. I—”

“No, no, I moved too fast.” 

Lyra held up a finger. “I’m safe with you. I know this.” 

“Your body doesn’t. You'd think I would be able to remember—” 

Lyra’s raised finger covered his lips. “No. We agreed. No guilt between us. We are not going to let thirteen years apart define us.” Lyra made a determined face and tucked her body in next to Galen’s. Moving slowly, Galen wrapped his arm around her, feeling the tension vibrating through her frame. He pressed his mouth against the top of her head and breathed against her hair, slow deep breaths. 

After a moment, Lyra relaxed against him. “I chose you.” 

“I chose you too. I’ll keep choosing you,” Galen murmured against her hair. 

“Even though I’m a twitchy, hypervigilant mess?” Lyra said, her voice dry. 

“Your reflexes kept you alive long enough to save me. ” Galen pulled back. “I love you.” 

“Likewise.” Lyra gestured behind her. “Come to bed with me?”

They cuddled for a little while, then carefully moved apart, a pillow a line of defense between them. Lyra’s subconscious self didn’t accept company easily these days.

Still, they learned how to fit together. 

In the morning, Lyra’s hand crept over the pillow barrier and Galen placed a soft kiss to her fingers. Lyra made a happy noise and the pillow was shoved down by their feet, Lyra rolling over and straddling him. Galen smiled up at her, sleep-rumpled and beautiful, and then she leaned down for a lingering kiss as she slowly moved against him. 

Galen’s hands went to her hips, tried to keep her weight off of him. More than a little breathless, he said, “Love—Lyra—Cassian’s going to be here soon for the check-in.” 

Lyra kissed him again. Galen caught up for long seconds before he ducked his head out of the way. He managed a strangled, “And Jyn.” 

Lyra smiled, slow and wicked. “We’ve got time.” 

“Not that much.” 

“Enough,” she said, pressing him back against the bed. 

* * *

"I _told you_ we didn't have enough time.” Galen struggled into his shirt and tried to smooth his clothes down as Lyra darted toward the door. She had managed to get herself together in seconds, trousers, shirt, casual robes, hair in a messy bun that looked deliberate. Of course. 

Galen fidgeted, well aware he was flushed and distinctly untidy. He brushed at his shirt ineffectually and eventually gestured to Lyra to open the door.

Lyra undid the lock, allowing Cassian and Jyn inside.

Jyn. His daughter, the familiar stranger. Getting to know her now was equal parts painful and miraculous. She had her mother’s sharp smile and indomitable will, but she was entirely her own person. Bright and brilliant. He was so proud of her. So privileged to get to be a part of her life. 

Jyn looked over at him and wrinkled her nose. “Gross,” she said. 

Galen’s cheeks heated as Lyra laughed. Jyn darted her hand against Lyra’s neck, two fingers pressing against a spot where Galen had forgotten to be careful with his kiss. “So gross.”

Lyra batted Jyn’s hand away. “Ah, baby girl, you have no idea how nice it is to get to embarrass you like a normal mother.”

Jyn gave her mother an easy hug before stepping over and giving Galen a much more cautious one. As she wrapped her arms around him, she called back to Lyra. “Feels too strange. You and I need to get to the gun range, shoot shit, or we might wind up baking cookies together or some bantha fodder like that.”

“Yes, cookies, clearly the most dire of fates.”

In Galen's less charitable moments, it was easy to become jealous of Lyra and Jyn's close bond. Lyra, who flinched when Galen so much as gestured enthusiastically in her peripheral vision, didn't tense even when Jyn darted for her jugular. Jyn, who still moved with a stiff uncertainty around him, fell against Lyra with a practiced ease. 

But they had years together while Galen had weeks, and it was easy to silence those voices again. Lyra chose him. So did Jyn. Galen had spent years hiding the part of himself that loved them, but he knew in his core that it was the truest part of who he was. 

In fact, after thirteen years pretending to be a beaten man subservient to the cause of the Empire, Galen knew precisely two things about himself. One was that he loved his family. The second was that he was going to see the Empire’s weapon burn. 

The four of them eventually settled in a loose circle, Galen and Lyra sitting on the edge of the bed, Jyn in one of the room’s two chairs, Cassian eschewing the other chair in favor of leaning against the wall. 

“Alright,” Cassian began. “Good news, bad news. The Alliance has formally decided to trust your defection and will soon be offering both you and Lyra a spot on the science team.” 

There was a moment of silence. Galen finally broke it by saying, “I suppose the conversation with Master Kenobi went well.”

Cassian gave a quick nod of confirmation. Lyra’s eyes narrowed, looking between Cassian and Galen. “That just seems like good news. Is there a reason not to trust it?” 

“You can trust the news. Galen’s right, once Kenobi approved of him, Organa pushed acceptance through the rest of the Council. The problem comes in the status change. You will no longer be required to have regular check-ins with me. I’ll be reassigned off of your family.” 

“Shit,” Jyn said.

“Yes. It’s going to look suspicious if I keep showing up here. After all, you’re not supposed to like me very much.” 

“I don’t like you very much.” Jyn grinned and Lyra snorted. 

Cassian’s eyebrows narrowed in exasperation even as a tiny smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “And yet, we still need to plan an unauthorized strike on the Death Star. This is going to make it more difficult to pass information.” 

“You could pass it through Kay. I’m around him all the time,” Jyn offered.

“That’s because you’ve decided to make pouncing on a killing machine one of your major hobbies,” Lyra said with grouchy affection. 

“You’re just jealous you don’t have a killing machine to spar with.”

“That is not even remotely true.” 

Galen and Cassian shared an amused look over their heads. Then Cassian cleared his throat, “Kay isn’t good at keeping secrets. He and I would both prefer that sensitive information not pass through him.” 

Jyn sighed. “Guess that makes me the go-between then. It makes a certain amount of sense that I’d hang around Kay’s human.” 

Cassian was unfazed by the nomenclature. “Do you think you can manage to pretend to like me?” 

“Nah,” Jyn said. “I’ll just come by your quarters from time to time.” 

Cassian coughed. “If you do that there are going to be certain assumptions…” 

“That we’re fucking,” Jyn finished for him. “I’m fine with the rumor. People who don’t particularly like each other fuck all the time. Just don’t actually try to stick your dick in me and we’re good.” 

Cassian’s expression could best be described as ‘wishing for a quick and painless death.’ Galen had a great deal of sympathy for that expression. 

“I would never—” Cassian finally managed to say. 

“I _know_.” Jyn rolled her eyes in Cassian’s direction. “Look, anyone have a better idea?”

Silence greeted her question. 

“Excellent,” Jyn said. “Moving on.” 

Cassian took a breath and tried to rally, “Alright. With that...resolved, updates. No solid news out of Intel, but we’ve got a line on a new network of Imp commsats. Intel’s trying to figure out how to crack it, but hopefully that will give us a new chunk of data to mine.” 

Lyra jumped in. “I still think there’s promise in finding out how the base is supplied. With a crew complement broaching on millions...that’s a lot of food. It’s got to come from somewhere. The geological survey data is showing promise—I’ve developed an algorithm that prioritizes size-mixed-particle soil construction with intermixed humus, specifically a 40-40-20 ratio of…” 

Lyra paused, looking around at the blank faces in the room. She tried again. “I’ve found planets with good plant dirt. If I check them against inhabited planets, then that gives us targets for agricultural shipping.” 

Everyone nodded in agreement, Galen made a mental note to discuss the algorithm with Lyra later. It sounded fascinating. 

Jyn shrugged. “I don’t really have much to share. Pathfinders are training me, I’m building contacts. I...might have a line on a pilot?” 

Everyone in the room leaned forward. Jyn swallowed. “I’m getting to know Dameron—Kes. He’s a Pathfinder. His best friend is an A-Wing pilot. I think I can probably join them for lunch sometime. I don’t know if she’s a good fit but—”

“More than we had before,” Galen finished. Before anyone could mention the _other_ pilot, Galen continued, “The model is coming along. I’ve got the outer shape completed, so we can use it as a targeting aid. However, I’m trying to recreate the flaw. I hold out hope that if I can demonstrate persuasively enough that the Death Star will, in fact, explode if hit correctly, the Rebel Alliance will authorize an actual mission.” 

“A worthwhile hope,” Cassian said. “But in the meantime, we’ll get this done with or without them. Good meeting. I’ll pass my updates through Jyn, now, but I encourage the three of you to continue meeting regularly. Keep lines of communication open.” 

Galen nodded. 

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll be on my way.” Cassian made to go. 

Galen interrupted him. “Cassian, wait.” Galen stood up, stepping over to his datapad. “I want to show you something before you go.” 

As Cassian came over to the datapad, Jyn tugged Lyra up off the bed. “Papa, we’re going to grab food. Meet us in the Mess once you’re done?” 

Galen nodded, and they left. Galen let himself smile fondly after them for a second. He suspected he was never going to get over the simple joy of having his daughter around again. After a moment he directed his attention back to the datapad, toggling on his Death Star model and asking Cassian, “I wanted to check, are you alright with the rumors?” 

Cassian looked surprised before he schooled his features into his customary serious expression. “It’s not a problem.”

“It’s just...if there was anyone—I don’t need to know who—who may be hurt by the idea that you were sleeping with someone else...I, forgive me, I’m not trying to pry, I simply wanted—”

Cassian chuckled. “I appreciate the thought, Galen. But I’ve had far worse covers than this one.” Cassian and Galen shared a long look of understanding. Cassian continued, “I don’t mind telling you, there’s nobody who would take offense. Not much time for those things.”

Galen gave an acknowledging head-tilt. They stood side by side for a moment longer, before Cassian said, “You know, if we refrain from discussing sensitive information, there’s no reason we couldn’t meet in the mess hall periodically. Despite the history between us, I’m still one of the first people you’ve known here. Draven would approve of me keeping tabs, even informally.” 

“I’d like that,” Galen said. “If we build a public friendship slowly, it’ll keep lines of communication open.” 

Cassian gave a brief nod. “Exactly.” 

Galen watched Cassian leave with a bemused expression. If Galen wasn’t mistaken, the young spy was offering a genuine friendship, cloaked in the guise of tactical convenience. Or at least the chance to build one. Galen suspected he didn’t offer that often. 

Galen was grateful for the offer. He knew he loved Lyra and Jyn, knew it in a way he knew little else, but they didn’t understand the sorts of brutal choices Galen had made when he decided to stay alive and sabotage from the inside. Cassian’s understanding had helped keep Galen sane, and he was glad not to lose it entirely. 

* * *

Galen took another couple of minutes to actually pull himself together for the day. Hair finally combed and clothes properly straightened, Galen made his way down to the mess hall. He paused at the door as he caught sight of Jyn and Lyra, laughing over a story one or the other was telling. 

The two of them blended into each other when talking. Galen had the suspicion that they held whole conversations in pointed looks, then had them over again out loud just for the sheer joy of it. 

Before Galen could walk over to them, his eye was caught by orange movement across the room. Bodhi sat there, flanked by pilots, quietly eating and watching as his peers carried on a seemingly constant stream of chatter. 

Bodhi had been the more talkative, out of the two of them. It was odd to see him so quiet. Was he happy? It seemed like he had been born with dark circles under his eyes, but they were worse lately. Was he getting enough sleep? 

One of the pilots stood up, clapped his hand on Bodhi’s shoulder twice before leaning down to whisper something in his ear. It was good to see that Bodhi had gained some acceptance. Galen had been worried that his defector status would mean—

Bodhi smiled. Galen _knew_ that smile. He had seen it for the first time when Bodhi’s clever hands had wrung an orgasm out of Galen, as he had pulled an overwhelmed Galen to his chest saying, “Shhh, I got you.” That was a smile of tangled sheets, of dappled morning light, of whispered intimacies. 

Something inside Galen shattered.

He had no idea why. This is what he wanted. He was reunited with his wife. If Bodhi found happiness (in a pompous-looking pilot with a frankly hideous mustache, who was never going to be good enough for—) then that was one less thing that Galen needed to feel guilty for.

Galen had lost every right to Bodhi when he set him running to fix Galen’s problems. 

This was good. 

Galen tore his eyes away from Bodhi and back to Lyra, wondering why his heart refused to agree. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmm, that sweet sweet aroma of plotting dissension with a side of pining. Want to chat with me about things? [I’m on Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sassysnowperson)
> 
> Come on back Friday for the next update!


	3. Lyra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Aeshna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshna/) continues to be a most excellent beta, polishing the work until it shines.

* * *

This was ridiculous. 

Getting Galen back had always been an outside chance. Lyra had known that from the day Krennic found them, from the day she chose Jyn. Lyra had braced for a long fight to get Galen back, if she ever did. 

As the years went on, Lyra had to face another unfortunate truth. Even if she got Galen back, they both would be changed by the separation. The young geologist that Lyra had once been had complimented the serious energy researcher as naturally as breathing. Now, battle hardened and beaten by the years, there was no way she and Galen would fall in easily again. 

They had only ever had a slim chance at happiness. 

But Lyra was willing to break the universe for that chance. If there was the smallest sliver of hope that she and Jyn could reunite with Galen, that their family could actually be _happy_ , she was going to seize it. 

It just turned out that once Galen was around again, seizing happiness required less shooting people and more negotiating boundaries and earnest attempts at communication. Lyra was more than willing to do that work as well. However, the earnest attempts at communication wouldn’t work if Galen kept refusing to talk about the bantha in the room.

Namely, one Bodhi Rook. 

More specifically, Galen’s feelings for one Bodhi Rook. Lyra didn’t begrudge Galen any happiness he had found, was pleased he hadn’t spent their thirteen years apart alone. The problem came from the fact that Galen seemed determined to scale new heights of idiocy in his complete unwillingness to critically examine any part of his relationship with the pilot. He insisted that it was better he had nothing more to do with Bodhi. 

After a few weeks it was bloody obvious that wasn’t working for anybody. 

Whenever Bodhi was certain that Galen was properly distracted, he watched Galen. Tracked his movement with a frankly agonizing desperation. Bodhi was lost and Galen was his map, his compass, his guiding star. Bodhi didn’t look at Galen like he had the answers, Bodhi looked at Galen like he _was_ the answer.

Galen, sweet, thickheaded dolt that he was, managed to miss this in its entirety. Instead, he wallowed in his own pointed longing. Galen looked at Bodhi in quiet moments when the pilot was caught up in other things, a naked yearning plain on his face. 

Such a pair. 

Lyra wasn’t sure how she was supposed to feel about this ships passing in the night nonsense. It might have been easier if she had felt one of the anticipated emotions: betrayal, jealousy. After all, she and Galen had been separated for thirteen years and she got him back only to find he had spent his time with a gorgeous new lover. But that sort of thinking supposed that Bodhi was stealing from Lyra. That Galen’s affection was a competition.

Bodhi wasn’t stealing a thing from Lyra. Except, perhaps, some portion of her peace of mind. Her brief time working with Bodhi had made her protective, she disliked seeing him so obviously desperate. And, after thirteen years of pain, Lyra liked to see Galen happy. She strongly suspected that Bodhi Rook and Galen Erso could make each other very, very happy indeed. 

If Galen could just admit that he actually liked the man. 

That he did was obvious, even now Galen poked at his food, actually moping over the remnants of his breakfast after spotting the pilot earlier. Lyra wanted to fix this. But this was not a situation she could improve by meddling. 

Ridiculous. 

“Okay, Papa, Mum, I’m off to go try to have my ‘impulsive nature channeled into a more appropriate team-centered approach.’” Jyn pushed back from the table with a grin and a little wave of her fingers. 

“Well that sounds nightmarish. Have fun.” Lyra smiled over at Jyn, and Jyn grinned back as she left. Her smile faded, a bit, as she watched Jyn go. She was moving on, growing up and more independent. It was how things were supposed to go. But while she was proud of Jyn, she also couldn’t help but miss her. 

As Jyn left, Galen’s mood sank even more to the morose. Lyra decided she was sick of letting Galen dance around this particular topic. She picked up her fork and made a pensive noise. 

When Galen looked over at her, she gestured with the fork over to where Bodhi sat, one orange figure in a pack. “There’s your young man from Eadu. Cleans up nicely. He looks like he belongs in fighter orange.”

Galen went durasteel-stiff next to her. Lyra waited a moment, hoped he would relax. “Yes,” Galen finally said, words sounding like they were dragged out of him. “It suits him.” 

“I was impressed by him, you know? It was a hard time, but he held things together well. I can see how he caught your eye.” 

“Ah. Lyra, I—I don’t…” Galen looked down at his plate, looking miserable.

Lyra laid her hand on Galen’s arm, “I’m glad you weren’t alone.” She tipped over and rested her head on his shoulder. 

Galen covered her hand with his. She stayed leaning on him for a moment, enjoying his warmth. Galen eventually said, “He was...a comfort.” 

Four words. More than they had shared so far. It was a start. 

“Good,” Lyra said decisively. She pulled her head off of Galen’s shoulder and smiled at him. She let her tone grow light. “You’ve always had excellent taste.” 

“I’ve been lucky.” Galen smiled over back at her, lines of his face softening. 

No, Lyra didn’t feel in the least bit slighted by Galen’s affection for Bodhi. Not when Galen looked at her like that. 

* * *

“Mum. We’re doomed. The plan hinges on me being friendly. I don’t know _how_ to be friendly.” Jyn punctuated her point with two neat shots to the holographic target’s chest, followed by another between its eyes. 

“The fact that you think that I can help you with this is profoundly disturbing,” Lyra said, not looking up from her scope. She lined up a shot at her far-distant target and slowly squeezed the trigger. The shot struck the target between the eyes and it shimmered and vanished. 

“It’s not so much,” another target fuzzed out, “that I think you can help,” and a second, “it’s that there’s literally nobody else,” the third fell, “I can talk to about this.” The fourth and fifth targets met their grisly end in quick succession before Jyn flicked the safety on her blaster and looked back down at Lyra. “Because I don’t have any friends. Because I’m not friendly.” 

“Maybe you can impress Dameron with your improving trigger discipline. That was nearly professional, Baby Girl.”

“I’m nearly a professional. And he’s the one that taught me. Dameron’s not the problem, Mum. It’s Bey.” 

“That’s the A-Wing pilot?” 

“Yeah. I know we need an in with the pilots, and I know I should feel her out first, but I have no kriffin’ clue how to do that.” 

Lyra thought about her own frustrations with complicated social situations. “I suppose just asking her, ‘What are your thoughts on defying the chain of command to take down a superweapon?’ isn’t the best approach.” 

Jyn snorted, raising the blaster again, “Hey, you know what’s great fun? Suicide runs! How about you join me in one?” 

Lyra chuckled. “Have you ever thought about how the Rebellion is basically a desperate fight against overwhelming odds? What if we upped the ante? Made it a futile fight against hopeless odds?”

Jyn missed her shot from laughing, and Lyra felt proud. 

“Are you going to actually help me, or are we just going to make black jokes about our doom until the Death Star blows us all up?” 

“Darling, I am the worst person to ask. I have been feral as long as you’ve been, and I haven’t integrated in with a squad to help with my social skills.” 

Jyn paused, blaster still pointed at the targets. “I’m pretty sure the Pathfinders aren’t supposed to be training me in small talk.” 

“And yet...it just speaks to the truly appalling nature of our baseline.” 

Jyn snorted. “Come on. You had a sort of normal life once. Right?”

Lyra sighed and pushed back from her sniper rifle. “I was a scientist. That’s its own sort of social awkwardness.” 

“Mum.” 

“Jyn.” Lyra got to her feet. “Yes, you’re right, I probably could have done it once. But I barely know how to interact with your father anymore, much less anyone else.” 

“I suppose I can be grateful we’re in the same boat.” 

“Small mercies. Have you considered asking Cassian? That sort of thing falls into his skill set.” 

Jyn flattened her lips. “That’s admitting a weakness. Not certain I’m comfortable with that.” 

“We do have the boy rather well terrified of us right now, don’t we?” 

Jyn gave Lyra a wicked grin. 

* * *

Lyra propped her elbow up on her desk and waited for her data to compile. The door to their room hissed open and Galen stepped through. He caught her eye, then he moved carefully, making his way over to her. Lyra appreciated his caution even as she hated its necessity. Sooner or later her danger sense would catch up to the present circumstances and stick Galen back on the safe list. It just hadn’t happened yet. 

Galen wrapped an arm around her shoulders and rested his chin on her head, looking over her at her data. “Running your algorithms?” 

“Cross-referencing against the galactic census as we speak.” 

Galen let her go, pulling the other chair up next to her and leaning his elbows on his desk. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but the geological survey data doesn’t usually account for particle density.” 

“It doesn’t.” Lyra knew she sounded smug and couldn’t bring herself to care. “It does, however, account for erosion rates.” 

Galen went quiet for a long moment. Lyra loved watching Galen’s mind work. Geology was her speciality, but Galen never could resist a puzzle. As she fed him bits of information he devoured them, chewed on them, and it was a joy to watch him put together conclusions. 

“Of course, the rates of erosion combined with the chemical makeup could be used to extrapolate…” 

Galen drummed his fingers against the table as he talked, leaning in, reaching for her workstation. Lyra batted his hand away and pointed at his own datapad, over on his desk. Galen shook himself out of his reverie enough to go get it. He started prodding, and Lyra twisted in her chair, kicking her feet up on his thigh and leaning one elbow on her desk, watching the floating numbers run. 

Galen picked up one of her feet with his hands and ran his thumb along the arch, “Have you considered an overarching multivariate model taken from lithologic…”

Lyra enjoyed the footrub and laughed at his terrible understanding of geology. Physicists. They always thought every other scientific discipline was their own with insufficient models. Lyra leaned in, eyes flashing, ready for a debate. 

He offered an overly simplistic explanation and she countered with a more nuanced understanding, putting one hand on his knee.

He covered her hand with his and provided what he believed was an acceptable principle of generalization, she indicated confounding factors. 

Before he could strike again, she poked his chest with her free hand, while offering a plausible model, which he decried as inelegant and insufficient to their needs. 

Lyra reminded him that science was not always simple or beautiful, and believing it was led to bad science. She lowered her voice to a whisper and waited for him to lean in, then offered a beautifully simple theoretical model. 

He loved it. 

She proceeded to tear it to shreds and he laughed until tears ran out of his eyes. 

She crawled onto his lap, voice going low but still decrying the model’s flaws, only stopping when she kissed the corners of his eyes, enjoying the taste of tears that came from nothing but joy. 

She pulled back and they stared at each other for a long moment, Galen still shaking in amusement underneath her. Lyra licked her lips, leaned in and whispered, “And that’s not even taking into account the limited cultural vi—” 

Galen cut her off with a kiss that he couldn’t quite stop laughing into. “Alright, alright, I bow to your expertise.” His hands tightened around her thighs and he pulled her against him. “Come on, love. We have unfinished business from this morning.” 

* * *

Lyra snapped awake. There was something wrong, there was a body on her, holding her down, she needed to be ready to _move_ , where was Jyn…

Lyra shoved the weight to the left, tucked her body into a ball, and rolled away. She vaulted over the side of the bed, her feet hit the floor, and her hands came up in a loose fighting stance, ready for attack. 

Galen blinked at her, sleepy and disoriented, from the bed.

“Shit,” Lyra said, running her fingers through her hair and trying to calm her beating heart. 

“‘M sorry. Must have fallen ‘sleep.” 

“At least I didn’t punch you this time. Kriff. I’m a mess.” 

“Worth it.”

“That’s a sweet notion, but I’m still a mess.” 

Galen waved a sleepy hand. “Less sweet. More lecherous.” He gave her a leering once-over. “Worth it.” He gave her an exaggerated wink. 

Lyra laughed despite herself. “I am rather good in the sack, aren’t I?” 

“Back to bed?” Galen held out a hand. 

Lyra took a long breath in, then out slowly through her nose. “No. Think I should probably take a walk first. Might be a bad night, otherwise.” She leaned over and kissed him. 

As she pulled back, Galen murmured, “Go find peace.” 

“That’s a tall order.” Lyra’s voice was dry as she struggled into her casual robes. 

She found her way to the garden. Yavin had marvelous terraced gardens outside, much of the base fed by fresh produce from these plants. Lyra was fond of the herb garden, in particular, plants less spectacular to look at, but an olfactory treat. She settled in on one of the planters, closed her eyes, and went about trying to find her peace. 

“The Force told me I should come out this way.” 

Lyra opened her eyes again, and smiled at the sight of the blind spiritual leader. “Chirrut,” she greeted him warmly. “I’m delighted to have the company.” 

The monk settled in on the raised planter across from her. “You seem unsettled.” 

“Another bad reaction. Didn’t hurt Galen, but I’m just...getting tired of being like this.” 

“Your body still thinks it’s in danger.” 

“But it’s _not_. And Galen gets the worst of the fact that it hasn’t figured that out.” 

“Does a part of you perceive him as a greater threat than others?” 

“No. He’s just around more...I keep thinking we’re better, and I let myself do something like falling asleep after sex without carefully controlling my surroundings and…” Lyra shook her head. 

“You’re still striving to let him close.” 

“Yes. Of course.”

“That is a progress of its own. Our healing isn’t a straight line. We are allowed to meander.” 

“Yes. Well. Right now I’ve nearly meandered myself into a sleepless night. I need to calm down.” 

Chirrut grinned widely. "It sounds like a perfect time to—"

Lyra groaned, “No, not med—”

“Practice meditation!” Chirrut finished, with excessive cheer. Lyra reached into the planter, snapped off a small twig, and threw it at him. Chirrut caught it, holding it in his hands and bowing over it. “Meditation through scent! An excellent suggestion. Lyra, if you wouldn’t mind grabbing your own focusing aide?” 

“You’re incorrigible,” Lyra said as she found a likely leaf. 

“I have taught decades worth of teenagers to meditate. I should be, by this point.” 

* * *

“And release one more time, opening your eyes.” 

Lyra followed along with Chirrut’s guidance, exhaling into the evening air. 

“You did very well,” Chirrut said. “How are you feeling?”

Lyra closed her eyes and inhaled again, scent of spice and green heavy all around them. “Calm. I might actually be improving.” 

“The Force moves strongly through you. I have every confidence you will continue to grow in ability, and eventually meditation will be second nature.” 

Lyra exhaled, slowly. “Thank you, friend. I do appreciate having some calm when things are tumultuous. You’re a gifted teacher.” 

Chirrut shifted. “A talented student always makes the teacher appear competent.” He paused, considering her. “There is more on your mind than just your potential for violence.” 

“Much.” Lyra tried to keep the exhaustion from her voice. “Jyn is off being a soldier. The Death Star is still out there, and we don’t have a good plan on stopping it yet. Galen and I are...trying, but it’s not easy.” Lyra gave a soft huff, “The trying goes for both our plan and our relationship, come to think of it.” 

“There are not many easy things in your life right now.”

“None. Aside from Jyn.” 

“And she is preparing to leave. No wonder your body is so determined to protect you.” 

“Yes. I suppose I should be more understanding.” Lyra paused. “Speaking of understanding...Galen is being an idiot about something and I don’t understand why. I’m trying to give him space to come to terms with things, but he’s not healing.” 

“Is this about Bodhi?”

“Yes. Not in the way you might expect, though. Galen is...refusing to make contact with him. It’s the wrong call. I know it.” 

“We cannot force others to build, or in this case rebuild, relationships. We can only control our own efforts.” 

Lyra sighed. “I know. I was hoping you had an easier answer, though.” 

“No. Just a suggestion. Bodhi is tied up with a very difficult time in Galen’s life. It seems likely that he would have his own protections built there, to save himself. Habits formed over years are not undone in days.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

* * *

Three days later, Jyn was frustrated at her inability to bond with Bey, Cassian still had no solid line into the pilots himself, and Lyra’s half-hearted resolve to give her husband time and space finally evaporated completely. 

Lyra made some attempt to chose her time properly, after a night when they were both rested, in the morning before their scientific responsibilities took hold, at a time when Galen seemed to be in a fairly good mood. 

Lyra got a two mugs of caf, brought them back the room, and handed Galen one. “Gale, love, I need to talk with you.”

“Those are not reassuring words.” Galen took the mug warily.

“Yes, well, it is a fairly serious conversation.”

Galen winced. He took a sip from his mug then sat down in one of the chairs. “Alright then.” 

Lyra sat down in the other chair. “It’s about Bodhi.”

“Lyra, I’ve already told you—”

“Yes, you’ve told, but now I need you to listen.” Lyra paused for a second, waiting to see if Galen was going to protest. With an irritated hand gesture, Galen motioned for her to continue. Lyra did so. “I don’t think you’re being fair to him. I know you’re determined to leave him be, but that’s not helping either one of you.” 

“Bodhi is doing fine. He’s rebuilding his life. He doesn’t need me barging into it again.” 

“You’re making that decision for him. You’re just assuming he’d be uncomfortable—”

“It’s more than an assum—”

“But what you’re actually doing is deciding for him!” Lyra finished, not letting Galen cut her off. “You think you’re being generous, but really _you’re_ not comfortable with it, so you’ve decided for everyone involved!” 

“There is no everyone involved, Lyra.” Galen’s tone grew lower. “There was just me and him. And we’re the only two people in that particular relationship that matter. I’ve decided to leave him alone. He...could seek me out if he wanted to.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Love. Seek you out? You’ve made it clear you’ve rejoined your family.” 

“I _have_ rejoined my family,” Galen muttered, tone dark. “Unless you mean to imply that I’ve somehow been unsatisfactory—”

“No,” Lyra snapped, holding up her hand. “None of this in any way implies you’ve been unfaithful to our family and you know that.” 

“I’m not always certain.” 

Lyra softened, reaching forward and patting his knee. “Alright, I’ll establish that now. None of this implies you’ve been in any way unfaithful to me. We were apart and besides, it’s not like we haven’t enjoyed the company of thirds from time to time.” 

A muscle jumped in Galen’s jaw. “This is different. It wasn't your idea. We didn’t talk about it.”

“Yes, well, that’s rather covered by the ‘we were apart’ bit. Listen, love, if I didn’t have Jyn to keep me company, and someone as pretty as that young man was interested in me, I would have had him between my legs in a second.” 

Galen gave a tiny smile, and Lyra nudged him with an affectionate grin. “So that’s not what this is about.” 

Galen sobered again. “So. What is this about, then? I’ve made my position on approaching him _perfectly_ clear.” 

“Yes, Love. But you need to reconsider it.” Galen’s eyes shuttered, but Lyra pressed on, setting down her mug and leaning in. “He deserves the chance to decide for himself.”

“Why is everyone determined to bleed him dry? I have already taken from Bodhi more than I had any right to. I stole his time, his affection, his care, I used him. Because of me, he was tortured. And my weapon destroyed his home. Leave him _be_.” 

“It’s not your weapon, and yes, that matters. Because you’re finding your peace by making certain that weapon burns. Bodhi deserves the same chance.” 

“He’s done _enough_ , Lyra.” Galen set the mug down on the desk with a loud clatter. 

“He’s in a bloody X-Wing, I think he disagrees with you.” Lyra threw her hands up in exasperation. 

“That’s different,” Galen snapped. “He’s always wanted to fly fighters. He’s finally getting the chance. I’ll not ruin it by forcing him to turn against the people who have welcomed him in!” 

“You wouldn’t be forcing anything by offering. You’d be giving him a choice. He deserves the chance to hit back at the monster that stole his world.” 

“He already _has_. And he paid the price. He’s _done_.” Galen slammed his hand against the table with the last point, his voice almost edging toward a yell. 

Lyra couldn’t keep herself contained anymore. She stood up, getting into Galen’s face. “You’re deciding that _for_ him! You’re so wrapped up in your own damn certainty that you’re stealing his choice!” 

“It’s not a choice he should ever need to make.” Galen glared up at her, defiant. 

“And what message does that send? ‘Run along and leave the planning for the adults. We don’t need your help anymore.’” 

“That sounds perfectly acceptable to me.” 

“Oh, certainly. ‘I had no problem sending you to your death, and you were a nice enough fuck—’”

“Lyra.” Galen’s voice went low as he shoved himself up and out of the chair, forcing her to look up at him instead. 

“‘But in the end, you were just disposable, so go on and do your best to pick up the tatters of your life—’” 

“ _Lyra._ ” 

Lyra glared. “You’re winning any points by looming and saying my name. If you can’t actually argue with me, just admit that.”

“You’re not arguing, you’re throwing around baseless accusations designed to infuriate me.” 

“I’m offering valid interpretations. You think that you can’t hurt the pilot further if you leave him alone, but I am telling you that _it is the leaving him alone that is hurting him_.”

“You’re wrong,” Galen said, his shoulders sinking and eyes eyes squeezing shut. “I’ve seen him. He’s happy. He has no need of me.” Galen opened his eyes again and stared at Lyra. In a completely flat voice he said, “And as such, I am leaving him alone. Lyra, I would die for you. But this is not something you can compel me to do. And that’s final.” 

* * *

In retrospect, storming out of the room was probably not the best way to resolve that particular argument. Galen drove her mad, his certainty that he knew the shape of the world and his unwillingness to consider other perspectives. Of all the arrogant, selfish, short-sighted...

She wanted to punch...something. 

Not Galen. 

But _something_. 

Her body was a tightly-coiled mess of energy, uncertain what to do in a situation where she didn’t need to strike, where the stress couldn’t be resolved by running or fighting. She paced her way around, fleeing out to the garden, trying to find some measure of peace amidst the greenery. 

It wasn’t so much a leisurely meander as a frustrated stomp through the garden. The movement helped more than the setting, Lyra’s restless pacing carrying her past the plants too quickly to really consider them carefully. 

She rounded a planter, half-jogged down a small step of stairs, then around the next planter, determined to pace past the fruit trees next. 

She stumbled to a stop when she realized she wasn’t alone. She nearly ran over a startled man with big brown eyes biting into one muja fruit as he held a second in his other hand. 

Bodhi. Lyra felt some sense of inevitability settle on her, perhaps the working of the Force. Chirrut’s words rose up again, _“We cannot force others to build, or in this case rebuild, relationships. We can only control our own efforts.”_

Bodhi finished biting his fruit with a guilty look, glancing over his shoulder as if looking for escape. Apparently not seeing a convenient excuse, he turned to Lyra with a shallow gulp and offered the other fruit. “Want one?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun DUUUUN. The plot thickens. I wonder how that conversation is going to go? 
> 
> So, I wrote this whole thing long before I figured out the administration of how I'd actually be posting it, so I'm rather pleased that Friday actually ended on something of a cliffhanger :D 
> 
> Want to talk to me about the story? Comments are always cherished, or you can [find me on Tumblr.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sassysnowperson)


	4. Bodhi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that you DON'T see the same word five times in three sentences is thanks to [Aeshna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshna/), who provided a helpful and diligent beta.

* * *

Bodhi was nearly certain he wouldn’t get kicked out of the Rebellion for stealing fruit. He had just been walking through the gardens, desert child marvelling at green, at food that appeared without needing shipping containers or careful tending in greenhouses. It never stopped feeling wondrous. 

He should have thought before he grabbed the fruit off the tree, selfish, stupid, to act like the trees were his, like he had any right to them…

A more rational part of his brain pointed out that face to face with Galen’s wife, Galen’s wife who looked _furious_ , he should probably be panicking about something other than a couple of stolen muja fruit. But Bodhi never got the chance to choose what his brain would worry about next, so he did the only thing he could think to do, and offered her one. 

He was an idiot. 

Lyra walked over, anger fading to something resembling resignation, a wry little smile on her face as she reached forward and took the fruit from his hand. Bodhi shivered as her fingers brushed his wrist, body going haywire with reactions in the face of his panic. 

Why was she here? 

He tried so hard to stay out of the way, to stay unobtrusive. It was unfortunate, that Galen was stuck having him around while he was trying to get on with his life. Galen’s life had been cruelly interrupted, and Bodhi was just a part of that pause. Things were going back to the way they should be. 

“Hello, Bodhi, haven’t seen you in a while.” 

What do you even say to that? ‘Yes, well, I was a bit busy trying to not lust too obviously over your husband.’ 

“Yeah. A...while. You look well.”

Bodhi Rook was an idiot and there was no way around that. He took another bite out of his fruit to mask his discomfort. 

Lyra sighed. “This is bloody awkward.” 

Bodhi’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Yes,” he mumbled around his mouthful of fruit. He swallowed, then continued, “It is. Hey, I’m—I’m sorry that I have to be around. I think they’ll reassign Green sooner or later, and I’ll be out of your hair, I…” 

All of Bodhi’s higher functioning cut off when Lyra laid a hand on his arm. She gave him a small smile. “I don’t mind having you around. In fact...I never thanked you. You got us to Eadu. And then got Galen off again. We wouldn’t have been able to do that without you.” 

Bodhi shifted, twitching. Saving Galen was a selfish act, really. He might not have the largest share of Galen’s heart, but Galen still held the bulk of his. He missed Galen terribly, missed his kind eyes and his sad smile and his pleased rumble of affection, but he was so fucking glad Galen was alive. “You’re welcome,” he said, feeling like a liar. He felt obligated to try to direct the conversation back around. “Thank you for getting me off Jedha.” 

Lyra shook her head slightly, looking haunted into the distance. “My pleasure. I still can’t believe...It was horrible. We've got to stop that thing.” 

“Yeah. They've got to do _something_. Right now we're just waiting for it to strike again.” 

Lyra licked her lips and gave him a slow look. Something flicked across her face, some internal struggle, then she seemed to reach some sort of resolution. She leaned closer to him, and Bodhi leaned in as well, the magnetism of secrecy taking effect. 

Lyra bit her lip. “We are working on a horrible plan. Hopeless odds. Suicide run. To be clear, this is a bad idea. But...we’re going to hit the Death Star. Whether or not the Rebellion approves.”

Bodhi’s eyes went wide as he stared at Lyra. She couldn’t be saying…he leaned in even closer. “Really?” 

Lyra nodded. “Really. But this isn’t an obligation, it’s just...you’ve seen it.” 

“Yes.” The words came out of Bodhi in a rush. “I’m in. I mean, yes, I’ve seen it. But if you think I can help…” 

“I know you can help.” Lyra’s eyes flicked to him, then away again. “We don’t have an in with the pilots. Cassian and I are working to find the thing, Jyn’s quietly assessing the Pathfinders, Galen’s making a targeting model…” 

Bodhi was confused. “You don’t have any pilots? But...it’s a massive space station. Getting an infiltration team to the reactor core...that's not practical.”

“Yes. You have grasped our problem neatly.” 

There was a difference between being involved in a project and being responsible for the most critical component. “I...I’ve never done anything remotely like this before.” He struggled to keep his breathing even. They were going to lose, the Empire was going to destroy everything, just because Bodhi was in no way equipped for the task in front of him.

Lyra nodded. “None of us have. But you’ve got an excuse to talk to pilots at least. Feel them out, see who’d be willing to go off the books. The rest of us don’t even have that chance.” 

Bodhi gave Lyra a nervous look. “Don’t stop looking for someone better. I’ll do what I can but I’ve just barely started flying. Cassian’s got to know somebody...”

“He doesn’t. We’ve been plotting for a couple weeks. We haven’t had any traction. I finally made the call that we should bring you in.”

Bodhi flinched back. “I know it must have been desperate. I’ll...I’ll stay out of Galen’s way.” 

Lyra sighed in exasperation. “No. That’s fine, it wasn’t...it was that…I suppose you should know.” Lyra pinched the bridge of her nose, looking sidelong at him. “Galen didn’t want to bring you in. I’ve been trying to talk him around, but we’ve run out of time. He’s likely going to be very irritated. But that doesn’t matter.”

Bodhi felt something inside of him shatter. He had thought Galen at least respected his devotion, if nothing else. But if Galen didn’t want to trust him with this…

Lyra’s hand was on his arm again. Bodhi looked over at her, and Lyra looked sympathetic. “Bodhi, you must have figured it out by now. Sometimes, Galen is a magnificent idiot. Now is one of those times.” 

Bodhi gave a small smile at her attempt at comfort. “Don’t worry, my commitment didn’t begin and end with Galen. You don’t need to sugarcoat things for me.” 

Lyra’s hand dropped and she looked frustrated. “The two of you really need to work on your issues.” 

Bodhi turned toward Lyra, tentatively reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. “Lyra.” When she looked at him, he continued, “There is no two of us. Galen was never mine. We both knew it. He never stopped loving you.” 

This didn’t reassure Lyra as much as Bodhi expected it would. She turned toward him, anger and sadness all mixed up in her gaze. “I know he loves me.” 

Lyra set her hands on either side of Bodhi’s cheeks. His eyes went wide as she guided his head down, pressing a decisive kiss to the center of his forehead. She pulled back, and Bodhi couldn’t parse her expression. He couldn’t even try, too distracted by the way his skin still tingled after her lips had left. 

“But,” Lyra continued, giving him that same unreadable glare, “that does not negate the two of you. And we have reached the end of how willing I am to be involved in this. I can’t be your go-between.” 

“I...wouldn’t ask you to?” Bodhi was confused, instincts telling him to pull his head out of her hands and run away, but far too frozen in place to follow those instincts. 

Lyra patted one of his cheeks before pulling away. They both shifted awkwardly for a moment before Lyra squared her shoulders. “Meeting up is going to be hard. Jyn’s keeping Cassian connected with myself and Galen. We’ll need to figure out who can be in touch with you. In the meantime, see what you can learn. See who’s likely to be okay with a little light treason.” 

Bodhi chewed on the side of his lip and gave a tiny nod. He tried to hold it together in front of Lyra, but he could already feel sirens sounding inside of him. He couldn’t do this. He was going to get kicked out of the Rebellion. The Death Star would come and they wouldn't have pilots because Bodhi was never going to be able to recruit anyone. 

Movement at the edge of his vision caught his eye. He looked over, and saw Galen walking across the garden. Galen looked weary, slumped shoulders and movements slow. But when he saw them, his eyes narrowed. Bodhi’s stomach seized as he watched Galen’s shoulders draw tight across his back, watched his face sink into furious lines. 

Galen was angry. Bodhi had never seen Galen this angry before. “Lyra, what—”

“Remember,” Lyra said, turning to Bodhi with a bright smile that was almost certainly false, “this is not your problem.” 

She deliberately reached over and patted him on the arm. Bodhi shied away, his eyes tracking Galen, who was locked on Lyra. 

“Time to face the music,” Lyra said, and turned and walked toward Galen. 

* * *

“You’re distracted.” Shara nudged his shoulder. 

Bodhi looked up, shaking his head and trying to pull himself back into the present, feeling guilty. “Sorry. No. I’m here. Formations.”

Shara nodded at him, looking expectant. 

Bodhi swallowed. “We have a number of formations. For flying. We fly in various formations…no.” He buried his head in his hands. “I retained none of that.” 

Kriff. If he couldn’t stay focused— 

Shara laughed, not seeming too put out. Bodhi suspected it was a polite cover. Instead of going back to the drills she had been patiently trying to teach him, Shara shoved back from the desk and stretched. “Come on. We need a break.” 

“We just started,” Bodhi protested. 

“Move, newbie.” Shara poked at Bodhi’s shoulder. “This isn’t working. Let’s figure out why.” 

_Because I’m fucking worthless._

Bodhi sighed, pushing himself back from the desk as well. Once he had risen, Shara strolled down the hallway, beckoning him to join. Not having any better ideas, Bodhi followed. 

“Right. What’s on your mind?” 

“You do not want to know that,” Bodhi answered, in a moment of rather too much honesty.

Shara arched an eyebrow at him. “You know, most guys, I would assume that’s a sex thing.” 

“I wish it were a sex thing. I’m sorry. I’m just complaining. I’ll get it together.” 

“Rook.” Shara rounded on him. “I’m, _asking_. I’ll let you know if you start bothering me.”

Bodhi stopped walking, staring at Shara. She was asking. And she seemed...moral. Like she might be willing to take a stand based on what was right, rather than the company line. 

Feeling like he was going to die, Bodhi took a deep breath and said, “You know what happened to Jedha?”

Shara’s eyes softened as she looked at him. “That was your home planet, wasn’t it? I’ve heard rumors. Empire has a superweapon? Blasted it out of the sky?” 

"They call it the Death Star." Bodhi gave a tight smile. “I was there. I saw it.” 

“Shit, Rook.” Shara chewed on her lip. "Death Star. Really destroyed the whole city?"

“Yeah. Could have destroyed the whole planet.” Bodhi looked off to the side, started walking down the hallway. Shara jogged a couple of steps to keep up. Bodhi continued, “And now I’m here, and it’s out there, and we’re not doing anything to stop it.” 

Shara exhaled. “We probably don’t have the intel to do anything right now.” 

“Galen...Galen Erso, you know him?” 

“The weapons scientist?” 

Bodhi gave a tiny bitter smile. “He’d say energy researcher. He was forced into the other job. He built a flaw into the system. He could tell us where to hit it. We could be training. We could be ready.” 

“So why aren’t we?” 

Bodhi gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t know. They don’t trust him? The Council thinks we can find a peaceful solution? They’re afraid of drawing too much attention? There is no peaceful solution while the Empire has that thing, Bey. There isn’t.” 

“So...do you know how to get to the weakness?” Shara’s eyes narrowed as she looked over at him. 

Here goes nothing. “Not...yet. But I’m going to learn. And if it shows up, I’m going to take my ship and fly straight at it. Even if they tell me not to. Even if I’m flying by myself. I can’t just watch it destroy something else.” 

Shara stopped walking, and Bodhi slowed, turning to face her. Shara looked at him. “Well, if you figure out how, let me know. Then there will be two of us flying at the thing.” 

Bodhi looked at her. It couldn’t be that easy. “Bey. I’m talking about deliberately disobeying orders. If it comes to it. To fly against a blaster the size of a moon.” 

“And you’re gonna live a lot longer if there’s two of us, newbie.” 

Bodhi stared at her in disbelief. 

“Why do you think I joined the Rebellion?” Shara stuck her hands in her pockets, looking defensive. “Kes...Dameron, he’s a Pathfinder. He and I had a good life hauling cargo. We were pretty well positioned to ride the whole thing out, honestly. But...some things you can’t ride out. You gotta fight back.” 

“The Death Star...it’s one of those things.” Bodhi swallowed. “I didn’t think anyone would trust me…” 

“Don’t see why not. Sounds like you got the best intel on the thing. You know the scientist, you saw it work...get together a game plan and I’ll follow it.” 

Bodhi chewed on his bottom lip. “Do you think...do you think anyone else would want a shot at it?” 

Shara snorted. “Everyone, if they believed you. But you’re right, not all of them will. And some people might see the need to report it up the chain of command. Um, off the top of my head, Cylos is cautious, you’ll probably need to trot out more evidence, but he’ll hear you out and he won’t turn you in. Naeco’s a good call too, he’s flown more than anyone here, he’s got a decent kill count.” 

Bodhi nodded, thinking. “We’re all in Green though. What if Green is called out when they figure out where the Death Star is? We might not have time to regroup…”

Shara looked at him. “You’re seriously talking about a strike. Coordinated and everything.” Her eyes darted around. She grabbed his arm and started walking again. “This is going to take some planning.” 

“You don’t have to. I just…”

“We’ve got to stop this thing. You’re right. And shit, Rook, no wonder you were distracted. You’re planning a full invasion in your head while I’m going over formations.”

Bodhi gave a wince. “I wouldn’t say that’s what I’m...I mean, I’m still going to need to know formations.” 

“We’ll work on that, then. But first let’s figure out who we can recruit.”

Bodhi felt more and more settled every time Shara said, ‘we.’ This was overwhelming, and he was in no way prepared for it, but he wasn’t alone anymore. “I figure shoot for...maybe two or three from each squadron? That might be small enough to keep quiet, but big enough to really hit if needed.” 

“Right. Right. Okay, so it’s not really practical to recruit from the remote squadrons, so that leaves Green, Gold, Red, and Blue.” Shara counted things out on her fingers. “We’ve got Green pretty much settled...Verlaine. You need Verlaine from Gold. Wona Goban’s in the squadron too. She and I go back, drop my name and she’ll jump on that.”

“Are you sure you don’t just want to ask yourself?” Bodhi fidgeted. “The only reason I’m trying to recruit is because I know Galen.” 

“More than that, newbie. You were there. Pilots are a protective bunch. You’re one of us, and your home was destroyed. You pitch a strike with those big sad eyes of yours, people will want to punch back.” 

“I do not have big sad eyes,” Bodhi protested.

Shara snorted. “Yeah, Rook, you keep believing that. So, that’s two from Gold.”

“Gold are the bombers...we’re going to need bombers. It’s a vertical shaft we’ll be trying to hit.” 

“Still going to need fighters for the one-on-one work. I assume they’ve got TIEs.” 

“Yeah, the space station is literally the size of a moon. It blocked out the sun…” Bodhi blinked, shaking his head. “It’s probably full of TIEs.” 

Shara put her hand on Bodhi’s shoulder, the weight of it solid and reassuring. “Okay. So, heavy on the Y’s as compared to A’s and X’s?” 

“A’s and X’s could make the shot...but yeah, it’s going to be easier for the bombers.” 

“Alright.” Shara thought. “I’m thinking Pops. He’s in Gold.” 

“Pops?” 

“Davish Krail. Ah, and if we get Pops, we’re going to need to pull Danurs. They talk all the time. There’s no way to keep it to one or the other.” 

Bodhi nodded. “So that’s a good start for Gold and Green. Now Red and Blue.” 

“Well, you’re fucking Biggs, aren’t you? He’s not a bad pull from Red.” 

Bodhi spluttered. “Um.” 

Shara rolled her eyes. “Pilots talk.”

“It’s not anything serious…”

“Obviously. But it’s a good excuse to get him alone. And he seems to like you well enough.” 

“There’s Antilles…”

“You and Antilles share the defector card...but he likes the chain of command too much. Janson. That’s your in.” 

Bodhi shook his head. “I’m having trouble keeping everyone straight.” 

“That’s enough for now, anyway.” 

“We don’t have anyone from Blue.” 

“Blue’s gonna be tricky. It’s Merrick’s squad, and he’s Starfighter Command. We’re going to have to approach carefully. I have a couple ideas, but I think I should feel things out first." Shara stepped forward, slinging an arm over Bodhi's shoulder, looking conspiratorial. "Start with Biggs. Go suck his dick well enough that he decides to join us.” 

Bodhi shoved Shara away from him. She stumbled off, laughing. 

* * *

Bodhi nipped a line of kisses down Biggs neck. He hit the spot below the pulse point that had made Biggs shout last time and Biggs twitched a bit underneath him, halfhearted. His hands had stilled along Bodhi’s back. Bodhi pulled back, sensing the hesitancy. Biggs was staring off into a corner of the room. 

“You alright?” 

Biggs shook his head. “Sorry. Was just…”

“Somewhere else. I’m not hurt if you’re not feeling it.”

Biggs focused back in on Bodhi, seemed like he was trying to muster a smile but failing at it. Bodhi sympathized, pushed back off of him. 

Biggs caught Bodhi’s shirt. “No, I don’t...honestly, I could use a distraction.” 

Bodhi surged forward, locking lips with Biggs. They kissed, rough, Bodhi letting himself get pushy, demanding Biggs attention. “I’ve got no problem being your distraction, but...we’re friends, right? Doesn’t need to be about sex.” 

“It’s not anything big. Just thinking about…” Biggs trailed off. 

Bodhi gave an encouraging hum. 

Biggs shook his head. “No, sorry, can’t have this conversation with you half-naked on top of me.” Biggs grabbed at Bodhi’s waist, started fumbling with his pants, still looking distant. 

Bodhi rolled off of Biggs, settling down on the bed next to him, grabbing for his shirt and putting it back on. 

Biggs collapsed back on the bed. “Shit. I’m sorry.” 

Bodhi reached over, ruffled Biggs hair. “You’re not here right now. ‘S fine, but not really good for a tumble, yeah?” Bodhi reached over into his bedside table, and pulled out a sabacc deck. “Doesn’t mean I can’t distract you. Ever played Dogfight?” 

Biggs gave Bodhi a suspicious look, then pushed himself up to sitting. “Yeah...okay.” 

Biggs took half of his deck and they started tossing cards between them, monotony broken by the quick-moving slap when the same card came up. Bodhi’s hand got there first, and he swept the cards up with a happy chuckle. 

Biggs groaned, shuffled his shoulders, and leaned in, more intent on the game. After a few minutes of back and forth, Biggs eventually said, “It’s not anything important, I just got a call from a friend.” 

Bodhi grunted. “They alright?” 

“More than alright.” Biggs tossed his next card. “He came from the same shithole rock I did, he got out. He’s on Alderaan now, of all places. Swanning it up.” 

Matching face cards led to a vicious struggle, Biggs' hand going down first as he physically body-checked Bodhi away from the cards. Bodhi made an affronted noise, rubbing at his chest. “That’s...good, yeah? That he’s not stuck anymore?” 

Biggs grunted, looking off to the side. “Guess so.” 

They returned to the card game, Bodhi getting the pile, miming at biting Biggs' arm when it came too close again. Biggs laughed at that, lightness seeming to make it easier to shake his head and say, “Always figured he’d come to the Rebellion, eventually. We flew together as kids, I was looking forward to flying alongside him again. But it looks like life has different plans for him.” 

Bodhi lowered his deck of cards, taking a pause from the game. “You miss him?” 

“Yes.” Biggs played with the deck in his hands, top card sliding around. “He and I…” Biggs looked a little red.

“I sort of assumed I wasn’t your first, Darklighter,” Bodhi drawled. 

Biggs threw his hands up in the air. “That’s just it! It wasn’t even that. But, I had hopes, you know? Figured it was heading there someday.” 

“Fuck. Ouch,” Bodhi said, with no small degree of sympathy.

“That about sums it up. He was my best friend. And now he’s got this whole...life.” 

“And it doesn’t involve you,” Bodhi said, not really thinking about Biggs’ friend at all.

“Yeah. He didn’t give me the details of what he was doing, but...I think he’s pretty important. Even if we do connect again he’s not going to want a backwater bush pilot.” 

“That’s about as humble as I’ve ever heard you, hotshot.” Bodhi arched his eyebrows. “You’re a Rebellion fighter pilot. That’s not nothing.” 

“Guess so.” 

“Help me take down the Death Star. That’ll impress your boy.” Bodhi’s eyes widened as he realized what he just said. Yes, he was planning on pitching Biggs this evening but...not like that. 

“What?” 

Bodhi coughed. Nothing for it now. “The Empire's superweapon. The one that destroyed Jedha. I’m learning how to take it down. I thought...you might want to learn too.” 

Idiot. Pathetic. No way Biggs would go for that. And now he’d leave, and he’d tell Red Leader, and Red Leader would tell Starfighter Command, and that was the end of that. Nice going, Bodhi. You made it less than a day before you fucked everything up.

Biggs didn’t follow Bodhi’s dire predictions. More curious than anything else, he asked, “What do you mean learning how to take it down?” 

Bodhi swallowed. “I...um. I know Galen Erso. The scientist that defected. He built a flaw into the Death Star. A way to hit the reactor core. The whole thing will explode. He’s told the Council, but they haven’t started drilling us on it or anything like that. But I can learn how to take it down. And I can pass that on. And when it shows up again...”

“We’ll be ready to hit it.” Biggs nodded. “You should tell Merrick, get us drilling on it.” 

Bodhi shook his head quickly. “Merrick knows. He’s on the Council, he’s heard it already. There must be politics going on.”

“Fucking politics. So we won’t have any official approval?” Biggs scratched at the dark hair on his chest. 

“No.” Bodhi’s felt his whole stomach spasm as nerves churned in his core. “It’s risky and it’s unsanctioned.”

With an echo of the old swagger Bodhi was used to, Biggs gave an exaggerated wink. “All the best fun is.” 

Bodhi snorted, reaching out a leg and kicking at Biggs lightly. “Think about it, huh? I can teach you where the weak spot is...and I’m going, if it shows up again. I don’t want there to be another Jedha.” 

“No need to think. Nobody wants another Jedha. I’m in. And hey, who knows, maybe this will impress Luke. Or maybe it’ll get me killed and it won’t matter.” 

“You don’t have to—”

“Nobody becomes a fighter pilot because they expect to see their grandchildren, Bodhi. I’m in.”

Bodhi smiled, showing his relief. Two down. He hadn’t managed to fuck things up yet. What a kriffin’ miracle. 

Biggs smiled back. “Thanks, Bodhi. I’m back, I think.” His smile widened, somehow becoming significantly more lecherous. “So...what do I have to do to convince you to take that shirt back off?” 

Bodhi grabbed Biggs’ half of the cards, combined them with his own, and tossed the deck on the nightstand. He leaned forward, crawling back into Biggs’ space. “You want the shirt off, you’re going to need to take it off yourself.” 

Bodhi wondered, as Biggs’ fingers trailed along his skin as his shirt was eased up and over his head, if Biggs needed to work half as hard as Bodhi did to keep the specter of another person out of their bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens! Bodhi's now on board, let's see exactly what he's capable of. 
> 
> Want to say hi? I'm always happy to chat in comments, or you can find me on [Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sassysnowperson)


	5. Galen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, all credit to [Aeshna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshna/), who let me tell you, is exactly the person you want on your side if you're trying to plot out how people plan to fight a war. Thanks for keeping me focused and clear.

* * *

Galen stumbled and held up his hand. “I’m...sorry. I can’t quite...”

Jyn slowed with a sheepish grin. “Oops. Sorry, Papa.” 

Galen smiled over at her, fighting to take a full breath. “No, I’d be worried if you couldn’t outpace me.” Giving in to his loss of dignity, Galen leaned over and rested his hands on his knees, panting slightly. A hydroflask appeared in front of him. With a grateful smile Galen straightened and took it, drinking. 

“Do you want to go back?” Jyn asked. 

Galen closed his eyes, feeling the warmth on his skin and the breeze through his hair. Ten thousand birds sang, individual songs blurring into a lively cacophony. The cackling hum of bug wings sounded, the chirping life of insects. Everything was alive, fiercely alive and crawling toward the sunshine. 

It was as different from Eadu as you could possibly get. He opened his eyes and inclined his head. “I’d rather stay out here. I’m enjoying myself. A great deal. Thank you for agreeing to accompany me. I wouldn’t have ventured out past the base on my own.

Jyn smiled, looking around. “It’s fun. Good to get to stretch my legs. And I wanted to talk to you.” 

Galen re-capped the hydroflask. “You can talk anytime, Stardust. I’ll make time for you.” 

Jyn gave a half smile. “So…Mum’s not sleeping in my room anymore.” She offered the sentence as an opening and paused, waiting for Galen to pick up the thread.

Galen’s heart sank. Jyn hadn’t had to deal with her parents fighting before. Did she hate him? Galen had no doubt, that if it ever came down to a choice between him and Lyra in Jyn’s eyes, Lyra would win every time. As it should be. Galen still ached at the thought. “I never...asked her to.” 

“But you were angry. Because Mum brought the pilot in.”

Galen nodded, feeling even more tired. “Yes. But I promise, Jyn, no matter how angry I got I wouldn’t ever hurt your mother.”

Jyn rolled her eyes. “No offense, Papa, but she’d wipe the floor with you.” Jyn sighed, looking away. “Family is hard. I don’t even know why I wanted to talk to you about this. It just felt important.” 

Galen reached out and settled a hesitant hand on her shoulder. “We may argue, but I still love her tremendously. We’ll get to the other side of it, sooner or later.” 

Jyn closed her eyes and nodded. “It’s stupid, I know the world doesn’t work this way, but there’s this part of me that always thought that getting you back would fix everything. Now with you and Mum...and the pilot...I wasn’t expecting it to be this complicated.” 

Galen stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Jyn, held her for a moment with the sun warming them and the music of the jungle all around them. After a moment, she leaned against him, and Galen kissed the top of her head. “I love you, I love your mother, and those are the only two simple things in my life.” Galen pulled back and placed his hands on Jyn’s shoulders. “We’ll figure the rest out as we go.” 

Jyn nodded, and to Galen’s delight pulled him in for another hug. She released him and leaned back, still a little stiff, but looking more relaxed than she had been. 

Galen asked, “Did you still want to hike, or was the conversation what you were really looking for?” 

Jyn gave him a considering look. “No, I’d like to stay out a little longer. Mum and I spent most of our time in the wild. Having a bed is nice, but I miss it.” 

Guilt slid up behind Galen like an old friend, settling lightly on his shoulders as he remembered that Saw had thrown them out less than a year after taking them in, that Lyra and Jyn had battled starvation while Galen had dined at the Empire’s table. 

He pushed the guilt off of him again. He had made the best decisions he could with the life he had been given. Jyn was here. This wasn’t the time to wallow. “What do you like about it?” Galen asked, handing the hydroflask back. With a small nod he began continuing down the trail again, slower this time. 

Jyn put her hands behind her head and walked with measured slowness, keeping pace with Galen. “I understand it. Nature makes sense. Where water goes, how rocks form, migration paths, what eats what, it all has a pattern. It’s different everywhere you go, but you go outdoors in enough different places, it all starts to feel connected. I know what to expect.” 

“That makes a great deal of sense.”

Jyn bounced a few feet ahead of him. “Of course, every place has its surprises as well. Look.” 

Galen walked over to Jyn, saw her pointing at a rather beautiful flower, deep rich purple with delicate white veins. Galen furrowed his brow. “It’s…lovely?” Jyn didn’t seem like the sort to like flowers, but he was still learning who she was. 

Jyn laughed and shook her head. “No. Look!” She took out her glowlamp and shone it on the flower. The petals became translucent and it was clear that there were tiny insects writhing on the undersides. “It digests them. It lures them in with the scent, it smells like rotting meat—”

“Lovely,” Galen couldn’t help but say. 

Jyn looked over at him quickly. “Sorry. This is not...good, is it?” 

Galen shook his head quickly. “No! No, Stardust you,” Galen swallowed, “you are so clearly your mother’s daughter. She gets the same way.” 

Jyn chuckled. “She doesn’t really care about plants beyond whether or not they’re going to eat you. She gets excited about rocks, though.” 

“It’s the excitement that’s the same.” 

“Apparently, when I try to figure out ecological cycles I get a similar look in my eyes to you when you’re designing a power system. At least...Mum’s said so.” 

“She would know. She watched me work.” Galen was inordinately pleased to know this, that there was some small part of Jyn that still bore his pattern. That despite the awkwardness they were still tied, somehow. 

They walked a little longer and, with just a bit of prodding, Jyn rambled on about the unique ecological features she had found on Yavin. 

"Their little bodies are actually designed in sort of a screw shape"—Jyn drew a spiral with her finger—"Makes for an excellent defence mechanism, it's really hard to get them out of the skin once they settle in there."

"Where they...eat living tissue." 

"Exactly! I think the adaptation probably developed because a living host's movement provides a faster means of distribution for the species."

Unique was one word for it. Horrifying was another. There were insects that burrowed, that bit, that swarmed, that laid eggs in unmentionable places. Yavin IV was a breeding ground for enough horrors that Galen rethought the entire idea of a hike. Rethought the entire idea of going outside. 

“Fascinating,” Galen said aloud. Jyn was sharp and ruthless and full of scars that Galen could weep over but she was also undeniably full of joy. She was the best of Lyra, the best of him, and he loved her more than words could ever say. 

Jyn darted a glance over at him. “I almost believe you mean that.” 

“I do. You have a scientist’s mind. Watching it work is a gift.” 

Jyn turned a little pink. “Well, Mum trained me well. My education is...odd, but comprehensive when it came to the scientific method.” 

Galen chuckled. “I would expect nothing less. You know, selfishly, I wish we had lived in a time where we both could have been researchers, rather than getting caught up in this war. I like the idea of passing on a legacy.” 

“Who’s to say I can’t be a researcher too?” Jyn said. “If I know anything about nature, it’s that the ability to kill things that want to kill you is probably a critical skill for a scientist.” 

Galen thought back to his own expeditions, a lifetime ago. “They hire bodyguards, Stardust.” 

“Then I can inform them it makes good financial sense to hire me. Doctor Jyn Erso, Pathfinder Ecologist, saves on bodyguards.” 

Galen and Jyn laughed together, and Galen nearly wanted to weep with how perfect the moment was. 

Jyn gave him a considering look. “You know, there’s a waterfall another mile in. Do you think you have it in you?” 

“Of course,” Galen said. He’d held on for thirteen years on the slimmest chance he’d see Jyn again. For a little longer, the concerns of the world could wait. He was spending time with his daughter. 

* * *

“The unshielded exhaust port tube provides unfettered access to the reactor core,” Galen explained again. 

"But, as we do not have the full plans, it will be impossible for our fighters to know which one it is," said Senator Vaspar, oily-smooth voice carrying a remarkable knowledge of what the starfighter corps was capable of, considering he was _civilian_ leadership. 

But Galen was being uncharitable. If this demonstration had any chance of succeeding, he needed to keep his calm and work with these people. "The model I've designed is almost perfectly accur—"

"Almost?" asked another one of the civilian leadership, a cringing figure whose name Galen hadn't learned. 

"Almost. And I have volunteered to be on-site for the strike, to ensure accuracy." 

"We wouldn't bring a civilian into battle—" Vaspar started again. 

This time it was General Merrick, head of Starfighter Command, who cut him off. "Sir, respectfully, we have and we would again, if that civilian was willing and had critical information." He gave Galen a polite nod. "The logistics of transport are nothing, compared to the rest of it." 

Momentarily stymied, Vaspar rallied. “Yes. The rest of it. How do we know the exhaust port will be unshielded?” 

Galen ground his teeth together before answering in a polite, calm voice, “That is the way the design specs were written. They were approved before I left Eadu, and protocol indicates that the—”

“I don’t care about protocols,” snapped Senator Vaspar, tossing his blue cloak back to lean forward, looming over Galen. “Can you give me a guarantee that the the port will be uncovered?”

“As I do not currently have a monitoring station set up outside the relevant port, no, I cannot but there is no logical reason why it would have been covered between my defection and now.” Galen didn’t quite manage to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, his patience nearing its end. 

“All you have are plans and promises. You have no hard evidence,” Vaspar’s voice boomed out, loud and attention getting. 

“I have the models that indicate—”

Vaspar continued, ignoring Galen. “Frankly, I don’t understand why you’re _here_ at all, don’t we have better things to do as a Rebellion than harbor war criminals?”

“We’ve been over this, Senator Vaspar,” Bail Organa said, reproving. “Galen Erso has defected in good faith and brought us valuable intelligence. We’re happy to have him, and we’re not retreading that old ground.” 

Vaspar glowered. With a side-eye glance over to him, Senator Tynnra Pamlo spoke up. “We have no reason to doubt Dr. Erso’s models or information. But we must think about what a strike would say about us. The Rebellion isn’t strong enough to fight back against the full threat of the Emperor's forces.”

“Why do we even _have_ a Rebellion, if we’re not going to fight?” Merrick asked. He was folding his arms, chin jutting out at a determined angle.

“We can still engage in small-scale conflicts. But we cannot afford to antagonize—”

“We antagonize the Empire by existing! And as long as they have access to this superweapon—”

“ _Alleged_ superweapon. Reports state that Jedha was the result of a mining accident,” Vaspar cut in. 

“There is no doubt that the Death Star is operational. Andor confirmed it.” Draven cut off Vaspar, whose eyebrows knit together at the interruption. “And even if you’re disinclined to trust the word of an Imperial defector, I’m certain you’re not going to accuse our operatives of spinning lies for the sake of convenience.” 

“Not lies,” Vaspar backtracked quickly. “But things can become overwhelming in the heat of the moment. Besides, I did read the report. Your team was in the catacombs at the time.” 

“Wanting the weapon not to exist is not the same as it not existing.” Merrick gestured in exasperation, his gaze ending on Draven. Draven nodded in agreement. 

Both men seemed bemused to be on the same side of an argument. Galen wondered what their history was.

“But even if the weapon does exist, there’s likely a peaceful way forward,” Senator Pamlo said. 

“There is no peace in the Galaxy when the Empire has power like that.” Organa cut across the debate, his voice firm. “If the Emperor has a planet-killer, then planets will be killed.” 

“And do you want it to be yours?” Senator Pamlo snapped at Organa, her brown eyes flashing. “Because it will be, if you keep blatantly defying the Emperor.” 

“Defying the Emperor is the entire point of the Alliance to Restore the Republic! If we refuse to act, we may as well cease to exist. That is worthy sacrifice.” 

“Enough.” Mon Mothma’s voice broke into the argument, and everyone else fell silent. “I believe we have reached the end of fruitful discussion. Dr. Erso, thank you for your work on the Death Star model. I’m certain it will be valuable.” 

Various mutterings started up, and Mothma raised a hand. “However, we cannot chose to act without full knowledge of where the weapon is. General Draven, any progress on that front?” 

Draven shook his head. “At this time, no, but it’s our highest priority.” 

“Chancellor,” Merrick cut in. “I’d like permission to work with Erso to develop a plan of attack against the Death Star. We can start drilling the pilots based on Erso’s model.” 

Vaspar protested. “That’s giving a traitor far too much control over our military strategy.” 

“And that’s practically committing to a confrontational course of action,” Pamlo added. 

“I think—” Galen tried to cut in, say something about how he could provide the information to Merrick without having any sort of control, but fell silent when Mothma waved her hand again. 

“I’m sorry, General Merrick. At this time, no. Without the full agreement of the Council, there is to be no action. We need more information, and our starfighter forces are too few to justify pulling them off their current duties to drill for potential battles.”

Merrick looked unhappy, but he nodded.

“If that’s all…” Mothma paused. When she heard no protests, she continued, “May the Force be with us all. Dismissed.” 

* * *

Galen sighed as he let himself back into his quarters. Lyra was there, looking up at him hopefully. Her face fell when she saw his. “I don’t suppose we’re getting any backup.”

“None,” Galen grumbled. “I wasn’t able to demonstrate the feasibility of the flaw. Too caught up in technicalities. And sarcasm.” 

“I’m never one to turn down a good bout of sarcasm.” Lyra gave Galen a tentative smile. 

“I wish you had been there. It likely would have gone better. You have a talent for capturing a crowd. I am simply…” 

“Brilliant, but not excellent at communicating that brilliance outward?” Lyra’s smile turned affectionate. 

“You’re too kind,” Galen grumbled.

“I would have been happy to come with you, you know,” Lyra’s voice went quiet, and she looked up at Galen. 

Galen felt the corners of his mouth turn downward. “I thought it was best if you didn’t. I wasn’t certain…” 

“Of what?” Lyra rested her hands on her lap and looked up at Galen. 

“Of you. I couldn’t trust that you wouldn’t do something brash and reckless that I wasn’t expecting.” Galen’s voice turned cold. 

Lyra’s lips pressed into a thin line and she looked away. 

Galen sighed, exhausted. “No, that’s not fair. You wouldn’t...not at the Council meeting.” 

Lyra arched her eyebrows. “Are you actually ready to talk about this?” Her voice carried an edge, but her body leaned in, palms up and splayed in a wordless appeal.

Galen opened his mouth and almost told her that he was ready... 

Then he remembered rounding the corner in the garden, looking for Lyra, willing to try to tear himself open and explain why the idea of hurting Bodhi further was one step too far. To try to find words to explain that, in the strange prioritization of his soul, sending Bodhi to the slaughter was counted as the worst of his sins. 

Galen hadn’t yet found the words that would finally let Lyra understand that despite the atrocity present in the percentage of guilt he bore from each and every Death Star strike, despite the need to come up with a plan to stop it, if Galen asked Bodhi for one more favor he was at risk of losing all hope that there was any light left in his being. There was already enough darkness on his soul.

And then he found her, talking with him. It was clear from the way she jumped, from the defensiveness in the lines of her face, that she had gone ahead and asked. She didn’t even give Galen the chance to try to explain. Galen had hurt Bodhi once again. It didn’t matter that Lyra had done the asking. She wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t for him. His very existence was dragging Bodhi back into danger. 

Bodhi had looked terrified at the sight of him, and Galen couldn’t blame him. 

Galen closed his mouth again and shook his head, pressing his eyes closed. “No. I’m not ready.” 

Lyra sighed. “Okay.” After a beat, she said, “I love you. I hope you know that.” 

“I know it. And I love you too.”

Lyra nodded. “Can I give you a hug, or would that make things worse?”

Galen opened his arms and Lyra nearly threw herself into them. Galen caught her with a small chuckle. Feeling caught up in some strange giddiness, he tightened his arms around her back, picking her up and spinning her around. Lyra threw her head back and laughed, and a little more of the tension between them shattered and spilled away. 

Galen buried his face in the crook of her neck. “I know we need to have this discussion. But it’s too much. Now. I’m already furious at the way the Rebellion is dragging its feet. I don’t think I can bear to be angry with you too. Not right now.”

Lyra tangled her fingers through his hair. “When you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere...at least you’re not making me sleep in Jyn’s room anymore.”

Galen pulled back. “I never _made_ you…”

Galen trailed off when he saw that Lyra was smiling. She pulled him in for a kiss. “I know. I chose. Come, love, I tease when I’m stressed. You know this.” 

Galen pulled back from the kiss, smiling at her softly, brushing his thumbs along the ridge of her cheekbones. "I do." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmm, messy loving family feelings. Feel free to let me know how you're enjoying it in the comments, or [over on Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sassysnowperson)


	6. Lyra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Aeshna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshna/) is the reason that, in this chapter, we actually called ships by the correct names, instead of names I just made up THINKING they were correct. Thanks for being an amazing beta. :)

Lyra didn’t regret her decision. The moment may have been impulsive, seeing the pilot and deciding to speak with him, but really, it was the right call. The Death Star was bigger than one man’s guilt, and the plans to stop it couldn’t afford to be derailed by Galen’s foot-dragging. Besides, it was also best for Bodhi. Lyra remembered the way Bodhi came alive, leaned in, was so eager to be a part of things. 

She wished Galen could have seen it. And for that matter, she wished Galen could have seen the way the young man collapsed when he realized Galen didn’t want him involved. Oh, certainly, all noble and willing to do the right thing, proper young idealist that he was…

But Galen hadn’t seen that. Galen had just seen Lyra break his trust. Though, Lyra had protested, in the imaginary conversations she held with an imaginary Galen, Galen had never tried to forbid _her_ from speaking with the pilot, he had just decided not to go himself. If he had tried to keep Lyra from talking to him, they would have had a very different argument. 

Lyra always won the imaginary arguments. She had a strong suspicion they’d be less effective on the real Galen, though. 

Lyra leaned back against the rough stone of the pyramid, soaking in the thick noise of the jungle and the dying sunlight. She took a slow breath in, then a slow exhale out. “I just worry we’ve been apart too long.” 

“It seems, that if you know the exact reason Galen is angry with you, it’s disingenuous to blame the conflict on the separation. You made your bed, don’t fuss because you have to lie in it.”

Lyra cracked her eyes open and glared sideways at Chirrut. “Those are not the soothing words of wisdom I would hope to hear from a spiritual teacher.”

“If it’s soothing, it’s probably not wisdom. And beyond that, they are the words of a man who has been married for over thirty years. I know an excuse when I hear one.” 

Lyra smiled. “I thought that life would be easier when Galen was back.” 

“Did you really?”

“I suppose not. I had hoped...that I would be happy, at least.” 

Chirrut was silent, and just smiled at her. 

Lyra rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course, I’m happier than I was when Galen and I were apart.” 

Chirrut stayed silent. 

“And it’s unreasonable for me to place all my expectations for happiness on one relationship,” Lyra huffed as she looked at Chirrut. “Why do I even bother talking to you? I could have this conversation with a mirror.” 

“Probably because I’m very pretty.” Chirrut grinned at Lyra. 

“Yes. Well. So is my reflection,” Lyra said, amused. Chirrut laughed brightly at that, and Lyra closed her eyes and tipped her head back against the warm stone of the temple, smile refusing to leave her face. 

Chirrut’s laughter died down. “Ah, Lyra. I do hope that when Baze and I move on you will write.”

Lyra didn’t open her eyes. “I had hoped you would stay, but I certainly understand if the two of you have had more than enough war.” 

“Not so simple.” Chirrut sounded regretful. “It’s more that there is still too much war. You know the Rebellion has a Jedi now?” 

Lyra nodded. “I’ve kept it quiet.” 

“That Jedi is training apprentices.” 

Lyra’s eyes did open at that, looking over at Chirrut. "What?"

“It’s true. And those apprentices are in danger. The Empire wants them more than anything else. I know you’re working to stop the Death Star. When you asked me to join I told you I suspected the Force had a different path for me.”

Lyra gave a hum of agreement.

“This is that path. Baze and I will go, keep the young Force-touched safe...and if we happen to introduce a few thoughts about alternative views of the Force, well, that can only be a good thing, hmmm?”

“Kenobi is going to hate you.” Lyra grinned. 

“I suspect he’ll come around.” 

Lyra leaned forward, resting her elbows on her crossed knees. “I’m going to miss you. I…” Lyra fought against her own abhorrence of vulnerability, her tendency to keep things locked inside. Chirrut’s friendship was important and Chirrut deserved to know that. “I don’t make friends easily, anymore. You’ve been important. And you helped connect me back to something I thought was lost forever. Thank you.” 

Chirrut reached over and rested his hand on her knee. “It’s been a joy for me to be around someone who remembers the temple as it once was. Thank you, Lyra.” He pulled his hand back. “Your faith was never lost, you know. Challenged, tested, but the Force runs through you as strongly as it ever has.” 

Lyra was not crying. The warmth in her eyes was simply a localization of Yavin’s humidity. She swallowed thickly and turned away. 

After a moment, Chirrut cleared his throat. “So, has Galen figured out his heart is still tied up with our young Jedhan friend?” 

Lyra gave a wet laugh, grateful for the change of subject. “No.” 

“And has Bodhi figured out that Galen’s wife is in favor of him picking back up with Galen again? Possibly with a willingness to add a third body to the proceedings?”

Lyra made a high-pitched noise of affront and backhanded Chirrut’s shoulder. Gently. Mostly gently. “You’re terrible.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Any hypothetical threesomes I may or may not be planning are strictly between me and myself, thank you very much,” Lyra said, straightening her spine and putting on her best ‘outraged officer’s wife’ tone. She collapsed back down into herself. “We’re old enough to be his parents, Chirrut. Galen’s still a catch, but the world is far less understanding of aging women than it is of aging men.” 

“Your whole argument with Galen is that Bodhi should be given the chance to decide for himself. Before I cease being a meddling old monk entirely, I would encourage you to remember to do the same.” 

“Meddling old monk indeed. Never change.”

* * *

Lyra took a breath and folded her hands in her lap. Galen may still want to avoid the conversation, but certain things needed to be said. 

Galen turned toward her, eyed her body posture, and gave a profound sigh. Nevertheless, he sat down in the chair next to her. He drummed his fingers along the desk. “Time for our weekly Bodhi discussion, I take it.” 

A single chuckle made its way out of Lyra, and she nodded. “We don’t need to talk about everything if you’re not ready, but I am going to be figuring out how to meet up with him again, and I’d like you involved.” 

Galen’s brow furrowed. “Despite the fact that I have repeatedly said that I have every intention of leaving him alone? That my one desire going into this was to leave him out of it? You want me to cast that aside and be involved?”

Lyra raised her chin. “Yes. Because I’m meeting with him either way, and I refuse to let our disagreement create secrets between us. You may not like what I’ve done, but it’s not something that can be undone, Galen. He wants—” Lyra cut herself off, “No, that’s not relevant to the current discussion.”

“What do you think he wants?” Galen asked, stopping his fingers from drumming and flattening his palm against the desk.

Given the slightest opening, Lyra’s words tumbled out in a rush, “He wants to be involved, Galen. Even before I offered, he was desperate for the chance to take a shot at it. I don’t think you have a right to deny him that chance.” 

“He only cares that strongly because I shaped him.” Galen, for the first time since the garden, didn’t sound angry when discussing the pilot. He just sounded regretful. 

“You know him better than I,” Lyra admitted. “But I suspect you do him a disservice. You couldn’t convince him to care so much if there weren’t a deeply moral core to him.” Lyra gave a tiny smile. “You know what he said? ‘My commitment doesn’t begin and end with Galen.’” 

Galen’s face went unreadable. Of all the things Lyra regretted about their separation, this was the sharpest, that Galen's face was sometimes the face of a stranger. 

“I...I thought I could trust you. I thought if I could trust anyone, it was you.” Galen’s tone was slow, like he was examining each word before letting it past his lips.

Lyra went light-headed as a wave of relief crashed over her. Finally. They were talking. Lyra picked over her words too, not wanting to squander this chance. “For me, trying to talk with you, bringing it up, I was letting you know I had significant problems with the way things were going. And when you refused to discuss it, I felt like there was no hope you would listen and we were running out of time.”

“I was listening. I just couldn’t...I couldn’t bend, Lyra. It was too important.” 

“ _He_ was too important.” Lyra leaned forward, pressing the point.

For a long moment it looked like Galen might deny it. Instead, he collapsed, shoulders slumping and head falling. “Yes. I suppose that’s true.” 

In the silence that followed that declaration Lyra stood up and crossed to Galen. She wrapped her arms around his head, pulling him against her belly. He went, falling against her as she wound her fingers through his hair. 

“Gale, when I met him...it was the first hope I’d had in ages. That you were alive. That you were resisting. And it was blindingly obvious that he was your type.” 

Galen started to mutter an apology and Lyra cut him off. “No! Gale, listen to me. He seemed kind and earnest and passionate and all I could think was...I hope Galen cared for him. I hope he wasn’t just convenient. Because I want Galen to still be the sort of person who cares about these things.” 

Galen’s shoulders shook once, then twice, then there was a ragged intake of breath, and he was sobbing against Lyra. Lyra curled her palm against the back of Galen’s head and held him. His arms went slowly around the back of her legs and he held her in return. Lyra felt his tears through the thin fabric of her shirt, dampening her stomach. 

Galen was silent, violent weeping only heard in ragged gasps. Lyra’s own silent tears collected behind her eyes, as she remembered too many nights where she had fallen apart soundlessly, desperate not to wake Jyn up. Desperate not to give away their position to any listening ears. Desperate to turn herself into something harder than she was, something hard enough that there was a chance she could stay alive.

She and Galen had spent too many years learning to be hard. It was time to soften. 

Eventually, the choking sobs died down and Galen tried to speak again, voice abused from the pent up emotion. “It—it is still...with Krennic around...I had to pretend. Pretend it wasn’t. I don’t...I still don’t _know_ how—” Another ragged breath. “Yes. I cared. Care. About those things. About him. I only sent him because I saw no other option.” 

Galen pulled back, looking up at Lyra. He reached up a hand to trace along her own tear tracks. “I wanted to believe that things were better here. That there were other options. I wanted to spare him that. We have so much more freedom. I have _you_. There had to have been a better way.”

Lyra reached a hand up and cupped it up over Galen's, pressing it between her hand and her cheek. “I didn't do it to use him, Love. I really, honestly, believe that it helps him.”

Galen shook his head slowly. “I think you're mistaken. But it's good to know...that you wanted the best.”

“I'd like to invite him to the labs.” At Galen's arched eyebrow, Lyra continued, “It's not broadly known you two were lovers. No one would bat an eye at you wanting to connect with your old friend. It's private. And a damn sight less awkward than him coming to the room.”

Galen colored at that, looking away slightly. “I'll issue the invitation. Better for comms security.”

Lyra didn't answer right away. She wanted to be delighted that Galen was willing to take this step, but she was still too worried that his reluctance would lead the message being mysteriously waylaid, or oddly hostile. 

Her face must not have been inscrutable, because Galen chuckled and responded. “I promise. I will actually send the message.”

Lyra hid her sheepish smile against the palm of Galen's hand, kissing it. 

* * *

“Um. Hi.” Bodhi fidgeted in the doorway to the lab. Several of the other scientists gawked at him, no shame in assessing the anomaly of a pilot in civilian space.

“Bodhi. Thanks for coming by,” Galen said, beckoning Bodhi from the common area to his private lab space. 

Lyra blinked twice. There was no hint of his former uncertainty and conflict in his voice. He sounded casual, warm. She realized, with a twinge of discomfort, that while she understood logically that Galen had lied and lied fluently for thirteen years she had yet to see him do it. 

Bodhi, on the other hand, had a mask full of faultlines, emotions welling up in the cracks. He was heartbreaking, all trembling hope and quiet anguish as he softly responded, “Hey.” 

As Bodhi came into the lab, Galen shut the door behind him. As soon as they were closed off from outside eyes, his casual mask slipped and he looked over at Bodhi with something akin to longing on his face. Bodhi, too, seemed to need to hold himself back from Galen, some primal magnetism drawing them both together despite both of their best efforts.

Lyra watched them, hungry for more information. She wondered, had this attraction to each other been the cause of their relationship or was it a product of it? What had they been like, before? Was it strictly a cargo bay to bedsheet with an occasional supply closet thrown in sort of relationship, or had there been more casual moments between them?

Her musing was interrupted as Bodhi fixed his eyes on Lyra. Lyra would describe his expression as determinedly polite. “Lyra, hello. It’s good to see you.” 

“Likewise.” Lyra gave an affectionate smile. 

They all lapsed into quiet for a moment, politeness only carrying them so far. Galen shot her a panicked look from behind Bodhi’s head. Apparently, his calm facade had reached its limit. 

To Lyra’s surprise, it was Bodhi that broke the silence. He cleared his throat and said, “Um. Do you have the model? I need to know what I’m going to hit.” 

“I hardly expect you to be flying at this thing yourself.” Galen sounded worried. “That’s suicidal odds.” 

“No! Kriff. Of course not.” Bodhi looked over at Galen at the same time as he edged toward Lyra, moving to put more of the table between himself and Galen. “But, um, there’s not much point in...you know...having a pilot, if I don’t know what I’m flying against.”

“We can wait until we have more of a strike force assembled. I don’t want to pressure you into premature action. If we strike while underprepared...” 

“Well, I mean, I have talked with some pilots, but it’s not like any of them have a good reason to come talk to you…” Bodhi shrugged. “Sorta figured that’s the point of why I’m here.” 

Lyra glared at Galen from behind Bodhi’s head. She shifted her face to a little smile and said, “We’re just trying to keep communication open. We’re planning, after all. So we’d like to hear how things are going for you, and give you time to learn the schematic.” 

Bodhi nodded. From behind him, Galen started to look angry.

“But you’re under no obligation,” Galen cut in, and Bodhi turned to look back to him. Lyra fixed Galen with a frustrated expression and his eyes darted off of her as he said, “We can figure out a reason to meet with another pilot, if there’s interest.” 

Lyra pinched the bridge of her nose as she watched Bodhi deflate. She gave a frustrated hand-wave as Bodhi, sounding dejected, said, “Yeah. Of course you’d want...sorry. But none of the other pilots really want to coordinate this? If it’s too much, having me around, I can try to convince one of them, but I already told them I’d learn the schematics and pass them on to them…” 

Lyra’s hand dropped. “Bodhi,” she said, and when the pilot turned around she carefully asked, “how many other pilots have you recruited?” 

Bodhi ran his teeth over his bottom lip. “Ten? Or so.”

Lyra’s eyes went wide. She had hoped for two, maybe three. From behind Bodhi, Galen’s face edged toward confusion, and he tipped his head to the side.

Oblivious to the face-journeys going on around him, Bodhi stumbled forward. “I know we need more, but we need to be careful to not draw attention. We’ve got a pretty good mix though, three X-Wings, three A-Wings, four Y-Wings. Recruited cross-squadron, they’re all willing to go with or without orders. Shara Bey, in Green? She and I have been coordinating almost everything. So you’re stuck with me for now, but if it’s really going to be a problem…” Bodhi trailed off. 

Galen looked poleaxed. “It’s been a week.” 

“I’m sorry, I know I should have more than ten, but they’re good pilots, and I have lines on a few more…” 

“Ten is phenomenal. More than we’d dreamed,” Lyra cut in, before Galen could say something stupid. 

Bodhi gave a sad little smile. “I promise, I can be...professional about this. But the sooner I can get the schematics passed on to the pilots, the better our odds of success.” Bodhi turned toward Galen, squaring his shoulders. “Can you work with me?” 

In response, Galen gave a slow nod. He reached down and tapped the display on the table. A three-dimensional recreation of the Death Star sprung up. 

Bodhi relaxed a little. He looked back over at Lyra, question in his eyebrows. Lyra gave him a decisive nod and a small smile. He nodded back. 

Behind Bodhi, Galen was looking at the pilot with an expression on his face akin to awe. By the time Bodhi turned back, though, it was locked away, back under Galen’s professional mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should have just named this fic Plotting and Pining. Accurate stuff, that. 
> 
> Side note, if anyone has read my Obi-Wan/Chirrut fic [More Than Fine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11709489), I brainstormed it at the same time I brainstormed this universe, and it is fully intentional that this setup means they could take place in the same universe. 
> 
> Want to let me know what you think? Leave a comment or [chat with me on Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sassysnowperson)
> 
> _Administrative note: Due to the holiday, I am taking next week off of posting this fic. We'll jump back on in December 31st!_


	7. Bodhi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, as always, [Aeshna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshna/) performed works of editing brilliance in coaxing this chapter into existence.
> 
>  
> 
> _Specific Warnings for This Chapter: Mental health concerns arise and are discussed, but not entirely resolved. If you want more information on that, spoilerly warnings are in the end notes._

__

Life would be much easier if Bodhi Rook was anyone other than himself. If he was smarter, maybe figuring out the attack plans and angles would make more sense. If he was less awkward, maybe pilots would come easier. If he was smoother, stronger, less broken, less defective. 

If he was someone better. 

Maybe then he could shake the overwhelming feeling that everything was going to go up in flames and it would be his fault. 

Bodhi went over the simulation again. Trench leading to exhaust port. Gunning encampments along the side. Prioritize Y-Wings in the trench runs, X-Wings and A-Wings to do preliminary passes to take out the turrets. There weren't many ships so they needed to minimize losses. But then there were the TIEs. So maybe the Y-Wings help with the first pass of the turret clearing...but was it more important to clear the stationary turrets, or to begin initial runs on the exhaust port?

Bodhi rubbed his temples and stared at the simulation, trying to pretend he was someone who knew enough about starfighter tactics to make this call. 

His bedroom door code chimed and Bodhi considered ignoring it. He needed to get this handled, and between squadron runs and his own getting brought up-to-speed training, he didn’t really have time to— 

“I know you’re in there, Rook,” Shara called through the door. “Five seconds to answer before I rip off your door panel and start fiddling with the wires.” 

Four seconds later Bodhi opened the door, glaring at Shara. “What if I had been naked?” 

“We’ll never know!” Shara said cheerfully. “Come on, I’m venturing into ground troop turf, I need backup.” 

Bodhi swallowed, looking longingly over at his datapad. 

“Nope.” Shara grabbed his arm, started dragging him out of the room. “You’ve been working for five days straight, your performance is suffering, and because you don’t seem to have any fucking sense of self-regulation, I’m forced to take drastic measures and literally drag you out of this room.” 

Bodhi let himself be dragged. “So why are we going to ground troop turf?” 

Once it was clear Bodhi was falling in line, Shara released him. “They’re holding a sparring match. Kes invited me along to cheer him on.”

“Kes. Your Pathfinder?” 

“He’s not my Pathfinder.” Shara’s words had more bite than they usually did. Bodhi backed off quickly. 

“Okay. But we’re going so we can root for him.”

“And to engage in the long-established pilot tradition of watching the cannon fodder beat the shit out of each other while basking in our own smug superiority.” 

“...we lock ourselves in metal boxes and fling ourselves into space.” 

“Shhh. Don’t tell them that.” 

For all Shara’s bluster there was no comment on their appearance beyond a couple of raised eyebrows. They found a place by the edge of the sparring mat and settled in to watch. 

It was impressive, Bodhi had to give the Pathfinders that. They were a talented bunch, fast and strong and well-drilled. Shara's boy was clearly a standout, tall and broad and using both to his advantage. He was also clearly well-liked, Shara and Bodhi’s cheers two among many in the room. 

Kes won his match a squat Besalisk, somehow managing to pin all four of her arms at once. The cheering fell silent as a slim brunette entered the mat. 

Shara nudged him. “She’s new. Brilliant, not much of a team player but she’s trying. Giving Kes a run for his money.” 

Bodhi felt a smile tug at his face. “Jyn Erso.” 

Shara blinked at him. “Huh. Yeah. Forgot you two had met.” 

Out on the mat, Jyn and Kes collided in a quick blur of limbs. Too fast for Bodhi to track, there was a grunt, a slap, and the two of them separated again, circling warily.

“Take her down, Kes!” Shara yelled, amidst other encouraging shouts. 

Bodhi wasn’t entirely certain why he was driven to respond, “Give him hell, Erso!” 

Shara made an offended noise and punched Bodhi’s arm. Bodhi rubbed at the arm and scooted away, still shouting encouragement. “He’s all muscle, no brains!” 

Shara’s offended noise reappeared. Kes looked over at the two of them, eyebrow arched, question on his face as to what all the ruckus was about. 

That was when Jyn struck, going low with a sharp kick to the back of the knees. Kes turned as he fell, but not fast enough, Jyn grabbed at his elbow and twisted it behind him, pressure against the arm making it clear she could break it if he fought the hold. 

Kes, knowing when he was defeated, tapped out. 

Shara groaned, Bodhi whooped. 

“That was clearly interference,” Shara muttered. 

“He was looking at you, Bey. You have no one to blame but yourself.” 

“Shut up,” Shara said, sounding oddly pleased.

The highlight of the mock tournament seemed to come shortly thereafter, when Jyn beckoned to a corner of the room and a familiar-looking massive black droid approached the mat. Bodhi watched the room, noticing the looks of confusion from the observers, the excited anticipation from the Pathfinders. 

This should be good. 

Their fight didn’t last long. K-2SO was careful with his punches, moving with far less than his full strength and speed. Even with that he was terrifying and quick. Jyn was even quicker. She seemed to regard K-2SO as a sentient rock climbing wall, catching his arm and using it to leverage her whole body onto his torso. K-2SO tipped and fell. 

Bodhi cheered and, with a grumpy roll of her eyes, Shara applauded next to him. 

K-2SO caught himself and rolled, nearly crushing Jyn underneath him. Jyn kicked herself out of the way, moving with the roll, winding up on top. She did her best to restrict K-2SO’s movement, but ultimately failed, one arm eventually windmilling her off the droid body and a leg coming over to trap her against the mat. Jyn wiggled twice, gave up, and tapped out. 

There was a lot of enthusiastic, if confused, cheering.

People started to break up and shuffle off. Shara turned to Bodhi and said, “There’s an after-party in the mess, come on.” 

Bodhi shook his head. “Not really a party guy, Bey. Thanks for dragging me out of my room, but it’s time I got back to it.” 

Shara sighed. “Win some, lose some. See you tomorrow.” 

“Don’t get too plastered.” 

Shara gave him a lazy one-fingered salute and ambled off in Kes’s direction. Bodhi watched her go, then turned to head back to his room. He made it about three feet down the hallway before he heard footsteps jogging to catch him. He turned, expecting that Shara was going to try to rally him once more, and was more than a little surprised to see Jyn jogging up behind him, looking wary. 

Bodhi stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at her. She looked at him. Just as things were about to get unbearably terrible, Jyn blurted out, “Why did you cheer for me?”

Bodhi shrugged. _Galen loves you,_ probably wouldn't go over well. He shifted to the balls of his feet and rocked back down again, before finally saying, “You got me away from the cell. Everything else aside…” Bodhi bit his lip. 

Jyn gave him a careful look. “I mean, I wasn’t alone.” 

“No...but...we were on the same team.” Bodhi gave a tiny smile. “That counts for something.” 

“Still on the same team.” Jyn looked around, then started walking, going past Bodhi. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your room.” 

“O...kay.” Bodhi turned to walk with her. 

“Mum told me you’ve been doing great with the pilots.” Jyn seemed agitated as she walked, going too fast, then forcing herself to slow back down again. “That’s...good. I was trying, but I couldn’t.” 

“I am a pilot. I have an advantage.” 

“Still. I didn’t want to bring you on board. Because. You know. All that.” 

“Yeah.” Bodhi’s shoulders hunched. Jyn’s hostility toward him made perfect sense. 

“Mum and I were all we had for a really long time.” The words came out quickly. “She mostly makes sure I’m okay, but I try to do the same for her. And you...you’re…” 

“I’m _not_ ,” Bodhi gritted out. “I don’t know why I have to keep explaining this but I’m _not_. I’m just trying to put my life back together again.” 

“Yes. Well. I get that now. I didn’t before.” Jyn slowed down, looking over at Bodhi. “I was wrong. You’re good for the plan. You seem to be an okay...person, overall.”

“High praise,” Bodhi muttered. 

“I don’t actually like anyone. Okay is about as good as you’re going to get.” 

Bodhi snorted. 

“Right,” Jyn said, reaching some sort of decision. “Here’s how it’s going to work. You and I are never, _ever_ going to talk about...stuff. You and parents stuff.”

“Agreed. This much talking is already making me uncomfortable.” Bodhi shook his head.

“Good. Then we can be friends.” 

Bodhi arched an eyebrow over at her. “I thought I was just okay.” 

“I have low standards.” Jyn grinned. 

Bodhi laughed. “Alright then. Not going to argue with a new friend. Particularly not one that can take a combat droid to the mat.” 

Jyn looked frustrated. “I still don’t know how to pin him. He’s too strong.”

“I...can’t help with that. You want to talk about navigating a freighter through a fifty knot windstorm, I’m your guy.”

* * *

“Rook.” 

Bodhi jumped as someone kicked at the underside of his sole, where his feet sat propped up on a chair. He looked up to see the serious face of Wedge Antilles, frowning down on him. Antilles looked around. “Walk with me.” 

Bodhi’s heart sank as he climbed to his feet. He had done a lot of walking with people lately. The conversations were never nice easy chats about the weather.

As Bodhi fell in to pace alongside Wedge, Wedge said in a low undertone, “I’ve been talking with Jansen, who’s been talking with Biggs. You’re recruiting in my squad?” 

Bodhi swallowed. That didn’t sound friendly. “We’re just chatting about hypotheticals. What do we do if the Death Star shows up? We should at least be thinking about it.” 

“What’s your conclusion?” 

Bodhi gave Wedge a long look. He was a fantastic pilot, a solid squadmate, and one of the others on base who had made a point to mention their shared defector status and welcome Bodhi onboard. But Wedge respected the chain of command...and Bodhi was not in Wedge’s chain of command. “That it’d be better if we were drilling on it. Doing practice runs between other duties, at least.” 

Wedge stepped in front of Bodhi, rolling his eyes. “So what’s this I hear about an exhaust port and a reactor core?” 

Bodhi deflated. 

“Come on, Rook, this is a courtesy notice. If a bunch of fighters jump to AWOL, I’m going after them. Might be better if I knew where I was shooting, too.” 

Bodhi shifted. He wanted to trust Antilles, but he decided he trusted Shara’s gut more. “I think we all want to know how we can hit back. If you figure it out, let me know.”

Antilles looked frustrated. “Same to you,” he said, voice going dark.

* * *

Bodhi’s comm chirped. He looked down at the datapad, and winced. 
    
    
    Bodhi Rook, report to Starfighter Command. Immediately.

Bodhi’s heart started pounding in doubletime. This wasn’t good. They knew. He had blown it with Antilles and they knew. He was going to get thrown in the brig. The plan was going to fall apart. 

Maybe he would get flogged. Did they flog people in the Rebellion? 

It wasn’t just going to be him. Shara was all over this. He had dragged her down with him. And maybe Biggs? And Janson? How many people were in trouble because of Bodhi? 

None of his fears were assuaged when he entered the office of Starfighter Command and Blue Leader Antoc Merrick to find the man himself behind the desk, looking grim. Sitting next to him on one side was Bandwin Cor, Merrick’s right hand man and, when needed, his enforcer. On the other side was Mendia Kass, Green Leader, and Bodhi’s commanding officer. 

It was pretty much the worst three people imaginable, in terms of the damage they could do to Bodhi’s career. Bodhi didn’t think it was possible for his heart to beat any faster, but his heart found a way. 

“Rook,” Merrick said. “Have a seat.” 

Bodhi sat down and clenched his hands together to keep them from shaking. 

Cor cleared his throat and started talking. “It has come to our attention that certain...rumors have been circulating. Troubling rumors of pilots grumbling about certain tactical decisions and planning to take independent action.” 

Bodhi fought to keep his face impassive, pulling every dirty sabacc trick he knew to keep his internal screaming strictly internal. 

“Of course,” Merrick continued, “hypothetically, the action could be seen as necessary, in the face of a deadlocked Council.” 

“There is a planet-killer out there,” Kass said. “Would be nice if somebody killed it.” 

There was an expectant pause and Bodhi’s stomach clenched. He refused to speak. 

“It’s a shame that all we have to go on is the word of a defected scientist,” Merrick mused, almost casual. “It’s too much risk for our esteemed leadership to authorize action without an independent confirmation.”

“Jedha—” Bodhi said, not able to help himself.

“You would think that would have been enough,” grumbled Kass. 

“But it wasn’t,” Cor added.

“So our leadership has decided. And the Chain of Command must be respected,” Merrick said, seriously.

“However fucking suicidal it is,” Kass added, folding her arms and leaning back in her chair. 

Bodhi coughed, his eyes darting from one impossibly powerful person to another. His eyes settled on Merrick, whose mustache twitched. “Son, I hope you have a better plan than our leaders do. Hypothetically.” 

“Not that anyone’s planning anything,” Cor said. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Kass added. 

Bodhi coughed. “No. Certainly wouldn’t want to…” 

Three pairs of eyes bored into him. Bodhi took a breath and continued, “Do something like assemble a strike force to hit an exhaust port on a weapons installation.” 

“Hypothetical strike force,” Merrick said.

Which was immediately followed by Cor saying, “Alleged weapons installation.” 

“Right,” Bodhi said. “Certainly wouldn’t want to do that.” He coughed, shifting in the chair, uncertain what to say next. 

Kass leaned forward, her face serious, but kindness around her eyes. “Rook. You were never going to be able to keep it to one or two pilots a squadron. Flying is just about the only thing a fighter jock loves more than gossip.” 

Merrick smirked. “And we would know. Rook, we all want the Death Star gone. You’ve got a plan—”

“An innovative thought experiment.” Cor raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, one of those.” Merrick nodded. “We’ve got your back, Rook. Keep on working on your...thought experiment. It won’t get reported past me.”

Bodhi’s stomach loosened and he let all his air out in an explosive exhale. 

Kass chuckled. “You’re going to be alright, kid. We can help you figure out tactics.” 

Bodhi put his hands up. “You can take the whole damn thing. One of you should coordinate, I’m nobody. People will listen to you.” 

The three officers exchanged a meaningful look. “Not as easy as that, son,” Merrick finally said. “I made my objections known in the Council. They’re watching how I coordinate my squadron and my officers sharpish.” 

“They’ve got me running herd on him, making sure he sticks to the same deployment plan as usual,” Cor admitted. “I need to be free to play bad cop as needed. Which means a lot of the pilots won’t trust me.” 

“And I’m Green Leader,” Kass pointed out. “The other squadrons don’t have any allegiance to me. They’ll think I’m biased.” Kass gave a rueful chuckle. “Actually, I am biased. And you’re going to run into the same problems with Gold and Red leaders.”

Bodhi swallowed. “But, if you’re okay with it…”

“What it?” Cor asked. 

“I don’t see any _it_ here!” Merrick answered. 

Bodhi and Kass shared a look that communicated, ‘At least they’re having fun but thank the Force I put up with you on a day-to-day basis rather than these clowns.’

Bodhi tried again. “Maybe Antilles? Or someone else with a bit more experience?” 

“He’s Red. Same issue with bias.” 

“I’m...in Green,” Bodhi said slowly, eyeing Kass. 

“Need to talk to you about that,” Kass said. 

Bodhi’s heart plummeted. All he had asked for, since he had joined the Rebellion, was the chance to prove himself, the chance to keep his head down, and do good work, and fight back at the Empire that had stolen his home, taken his family, had severed his individuality piece by piece until he fit the shape of a cog in a machine, tiny part of a horrifying whole. He just wanted a place. 

And Green had given him that place. He knew he didn’t deserve it, but it was all that kept him going, some days, and…

_Don’tpanicbreathsteadydon’tcrydon’tscream_

“Rook. I’m afraid you’re getting the shittiest promotion ever. You’re being stripped of rank and put back to trainee status.” 

Bodhi didn’t hear the next few words that were said beyond the fuzz that took over his thinking. This was it. He had fucked things up too badly to make it right. He had only ever been faking and now they figured it out…

“Rook.” Kass’s voice cracked across the desk. “Look at me.”

Bodhi dragged his eyes up to meet hers. Kass continued, more gently, “I’m going to tell you the truth once. You are an exceptional atmospheric pilot, and we’re making a decent vac fighter out of you too. But Green is going to get deployed soon and we need to give you a reason to stay here.” 

“I want to deploy with you.” Bodhi winced as he said it and folded his hands together. “But whatever you think is best, ma’am.” 

“For me and for Green? I want you with us. But there’s a whole damn galaxy to think of and the fact is we need a coordination point. Going back to trainee, _temporarily_ , will give you the opportunity you need to mingle cross-squadron.” 

Bodhi gave a slow nod, still feeling sick to his stomach. 

“This isn’t an easy pill to swallow, and I know it,” Kass said. “So I'm telling you now that the only reason this is happening is so you can coordinate the strike. Outside this room, I’m going to say that your targeting needs work and your reaction times aren’t up to standards yet.” 

Bodhi sank further in his chair. His targeting did need work. His reaction times were too slow. Everyone would believe it because it was true. He thought he had been hiding it better.

“This is a lot to put on you, Rook. We know it. But we’re confident you can pull it off. And we’re here to help.” Merrick held out his hand, stretching across the table. 

Bodhi, not certain what else to do, took it. 

“Now, let’s talk strategy.” Merrick toggled on a small holoprojector, and Galen’s model sprung up.

* * *

Bodhi laid back in his bunk, staring up at the ceiling. He felt like a shell. With rank and squadron stripped away, with Galen off and Jedha gone, with his family dead…

Who the hell was he? What was left? 

He wasn’t the child who grew up in a spice-scented town, protected from the worst of the atrocities of occupation. He wasn’t the teenager who was beginning to figure out what was going on, anger at injustice writhing under his skin and tearing out in small defiances. He wasn’t the hunger-touched almost-adult who had marched into an Imperial recruitment office and sold his future so his mother could live. 

The Empire had killed that child, that teenager, that boy on the verge of being a man. Replaced it with a body who was only good for doing what the Empire needed. The Empire decided he wasn’t good enough to fly fighters, that he was competent enough for haulers. So that was what Bodhi had done. Fly the cargo, send the money home, don’t think too much about what you’re doing. 

And then, like station lights against the black of space, there was Galen. Galen who saw Bodhi-the-person, not Bodhi-the-pilot. Galen, who made Bodhi feel clever and funny and important. Galen, full of sorrow and loneliness that Bodhi could soothe, even if it was only ever for a time. 

But Galen’s story had resolved in the searingly bright joy of reunion, and the Bodhi-with-Galen had burned to ash with it. 

Damn it, Bodhi was tired of trying. He was tired of constructing some simulacrum of a fully functioning human to get through the day. He was tired of pretending that there was something left after the Bor Gullet had shredded his mind and the Empire obliterated any trace of his past in a blaze of energy. 

Which would have been fine. If…

Merrick had shaken his hand and talked strategy with him, had clapped him on the shoulder and told him that he knew his fighters were in good hands. 

Wedge had found Bodhi afterward, made it clear he was signed on. Said that he respected Bodhi for keeping his plans quiet, said that he was proud to fly under Bodhi. 

Shara had gone quiet when Bodhi shared the news, and when she started talking again she had fifteen more people to bring on board, beginnings of a smile on her face and something flashing in her eyes as she said, “I think you’ve actually got a shot at bringing this thing down.” 

People were trusting him. 

People were counting on him 

People were risking their lives because he had asked them to. 

He had fooled everyone into thinking he was someone who had a plan. Someone who could make a difference. Someone who was anything other than a tattered husk in a cheerful mask. 

He couldn’t...he couldn’t. He couldn’t. Couldn’t. Couldn’tcouldn’tcouldn’t. 

Bodhi’s breath went wild, shallow panting as his eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling. 

Distantly, he heard a voice say, “Rook.” 

He couldn’t make himself respond. 

“Rook, I know you’re in there. You know the drill. Five seconds.” 

Bodhi heard the words but made no sense of them, lost in a forest of tangled thoughts and desperation. 

Maybe five seconds later, maybe an eternity, his door whooshed open and Shara said, “You know I’m going to feel like an idiot if you really are in the fresh—oh, or asleep.” Shara’s voice went quiet. “Whoops.” 

A portion of Bodhi’s brain started screaming at him that he needed to respond or fake sleep or anything because Shara was about two seconds away from figuring out…

“Oh, shit, are you alright? You don’t look alright. Do you need medical?” 

Medical. Might as well make it official. Unable to cope. Weak. Pathetic. Useless. 

Each accusation slammed against his chest, shaking loose something savage and despairing. Bodhi rolled away from the door as he started sobbing, rough gasping shakes tearing through him. He was faintly surprised by the violence of the emotion, he didn't think there was enough of himself left to care about anything to the point of tears. One portion of his brain watched his body, dispassionate, as his sobs started edging into screams, desperate and high. 

The door whooshed shut again and footsteps crossed the room. 

“Um,” came from his bedside. 

The part of Bodhi that was removed from the violence shrugged in mental sympathy. It wasn’t like he had any idea how to stop it. 

A hand patted his shoulder twice. “Shit. I am the wrong person for this,” Shara muttered, mostly to herself. 

Bodhi wanted to tell her to go, to get out of here and leave him to his collapse. That he wasn’t worth her time, that she had better things to worry about. 

But he couldn’t make himself do anything other than curl up and cry. The sobs shredded his throat raw and stole his breath. The air came in and was pushed right out again. Bodhi grew lightheaded as his blood’s desperation for oxygen was overridden by the assault of emotion. 

The hand on his shoulder stayed there. “Pretty sure you need to breathe, Buddy.” Shara's voice was high, a little panicked herself. 

Despite the fear she stayed, making vaguely reassuring noises at him. Bodhi’s feral sobs eventually retreated into weeping, which faded into crying, which gentled into shaky gasps and slight trembles. He found his way out of the maelstrom, anchored by the touch at his shoulder. 

Bodhi curled up on himself, burying his face in his hands. “I'm so sorry. You can go. I'll be fine.”

Shara's hand pulled off of his shoulder. Bodhi bit his lip, bracing for Shara's departure. 

She punched him in the shoulder. Hard.

Bodhi yelped, hand going to his arm, rolling out of his curl to glare at her, baffled. 

For the first time Bodhi actually looked at Shara. She looked pissed off and terrified. “What the fuck was that? ‘I'll be fine.’ You're not fucking fine, Rook!”

Bodhi felt himself start to collapse in again, yawning abyss edging at the corners of his mind. Desperate to stay in the moment, he pulled himself upright.

“No. I'm—I’m figuring it out.”

“That right there was not someone who had things figured out. That was…” Shara's voice went soft, a tremble running through it. “How often does that happen and nobody's there to hack your door down?”

Bodhi shook his head. “No, this—first time. Unless, you know, nightmares. But I get back to sleep, I’m fine, it’s not—I...I just…” He tripped over his words, some pushing out too quickly, some getting stuck. 

“Nightmares. Yeah...Jedha?” Shara asked awkwardly. 

Bodhi bit his lip. “Sometimes. Or the...I was tortured for a bit. That comes up too.” 

“Oh, sure, just casually throw torture into the conversation.” Shara folded her arms. “Have you talked with a mind healer? Med’s got some.” 

“No, I was,” another wave of emotion washed over him, “scared. Scared I’d be taken out of Green.” Bodhi gave a harsh laugh. “See how that turned out.”

“Yeah, well, I’m scared. We’re counting on you, Rook. I can’t have you falling apart on me.”

Bodhi pressed his hands against his face. “Everyone is counting on me.”

Shara raised her eyebrows. “Yeah…” 

A shake ran through Bodhi’s chest, one more hitched breath that hadn’t worked it’s way out before. “They shouldn’t. Look at me. I’m nobody. Someone who’s better should be doing this.”

Shara gave an angry exhale from next to him. “Merrick gave you the spot. So. You think Merrick’s a bad leader?” 

“No!” Bodhi dropped his hands and shot a wide-eyed look at Shara.

“Kass, then? Has she gone ‘round the bend?” 

“Why would you say—”

“Biggs, Antilles, Pops, Verlaine, are they all soft in the head?”

“Shara, I—”

“Me?” Shara snapped out the word, eyes going narrow as she nearly snarled, “Don’t trust my judgement?”

“I’m fooling everyone!” Bodhi snapped back. “I’m just _pretending_ , Shara! I have no fucking _clue_ what I’m doing! And the Death Star is going to come, and people are going to fly at it, and they’re going to _fail_ and the galaxy is going to fall to pieces and the Empire is going to win and _it’s all on me!_ ”

“Whoa.” Shara held up her hands. “No. No. You cut that out.” 

“I can’t just cut it out. This isn’t something that can be fixed!”

“You think any of us have any idea what we’re doing? We’re _all_ pretending. We’re all making the best guesses we have with the input we’ve got!” 

“Yeah, but you’ve got experience and you wanted to come here and they wanted to have you…”

“My experience before I signed up was just hauling cargo. Same as fucking you! Except you went through flight school! You’re more prepared than I was when I joined. And the fuck do you mean ‘you wanted to come here.’ Rook. Do you not want to be here?” 

Bodhi pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them, a shake running through him. “I just...there’s nowhere else for me.” Bodhi tucked his head down, eyes pressing against his knees. 

A tentative hand patted his shoulder again. “Jedha.”

Bodhi’s shoulders hitched. He didn’t look up, but he managed to choke out. “Jedha’s gone. My mum’s gone. Galen’s gone. Now I’m not in Green.” 

Shara made a grumbly noise. “Alright, we’ll go through this in order. Yeah, no more Jedha, but that’s the whole point of what we’re doing. We’re going to get the bastards back.” 

Bodhi sighed and curled tighter. 

“I...hey. Listen. If you just need a place to go...Kes and I have family. We’ll put you up. Hell, Kes’s dad has a house here on Yavin IV. Say the word and I’ll smuggle you out of here.” 

“I don’t want charity. I just want a place.” Bodhi’s voice cracked. “Thought I had that in Green.” 

“Fuck you, it’s not charity, it’s what we do for friends. Rebellion isn’t a conscription service, you’re not stuck here just because you don’t have anywhere else to go.” 

Bodhi rolled his head, looking over at Shara, cheek now pressed against his knees. She looked earnest, if angry. Bodhi felt something warm inside of him as he realized she was probably telling the truth. 

Shara took a breath, then continued, “And secondly, as for Green, fuck you, that’s just on paper. You’re in fucking Green. Kass is going to knock heads together all the way up the chain of command if they even think of assigning you somewhere else after this.” Shara’s voice turned musing. “The real danger is that someone’s going to try to poach you. Rook. I’m telling you now, I don’t care how pretty Biggs is, I will murder you if you go to Red instead.” 

He shook his head, reluctant chuckle making its way out of him. “I...don’t worry about that. If Kass wants me back, I’m back.” 

Shara rolled her eyes. “If they want you...Rook. You’re a catch. You fly hostile weather better than just about anyone else I’ve seen. You’re smart and dedicated and your ego isn’t so big that you don’t take good advice.” Shara shoved his shoulder. “Only fucking pilot I know that has an ego too small. Can’t believe I need to pep talk you.” 

Bodhi pushed back from his knees, stretching his legs out again. “You don’t need to. But, thanks.” 

“This isn’t a one-way street, you know. It’s not just on you. You’re dying under the stress, that’s obvious. You gotta trust the rest of us to do our jobs too. And as your second-in-command, my job is to beat some sense into you when you need it.” 

Bodhi chuckled again, watery. “In no world am I your superior officer.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” Shara grinned and nudged him. “Partner, then. It’s still not going to work if you just shut down and don’t tell me what’s going on.” 

Bodhi tipped his head back against the wall. 

They stayed like that for a moment before Shara asked, “Did something happen to the scientist? Galen, right? He’s gone?” 

Bodhi groaned. “No. He’s fine.” He gave a rough exhale. Not like the night could get any more embarrassing. “He and I were fucking. Before.” 

Shara arched her eyebrows at Bodhi. “Okay, sure, guess I can see it. He’s kinda got the dignified older man thing going on. If you’re into that.”

Bodhi closed his eyes. “I was into _him_. He was smart, but not stuck up about it, just quietly brilliant, get lost in his own head and give you a sheepish little smile when he realized it.” Bodhi knew he was smiling, as happier memories rose to the surface. “He had this quiet humor about him, he’d say something so dry and it would take a minute before you realized, wait, that’s hilarious.” 

“You really like this guy.” 

Bodhi swallowed. “Yeah, I guess. It doesn’t matter. He’s got Lyra again. And that’s good! He deserves it. They seem happy together. But, after everything else...” 

“It’s one more thing to lose.” Shara shoved herself back on the bed too, leaning against the wall, shoulder-to-shoulder to Bodhi. She took a breath. “I thought I was going to marry Kes Dameron. Asked him to have me, actually.” 

Bodhi grunted. “He’s an idiot if he said no.”

“He said he wanted to wait to make plans for the future until he knew there was going to be one. Said that there wasn’t any point in getting together with how often we’d just be dragged apart again. Rejection sucks.” 

Bodhi grunted. He leaned against Shara. She tipped over on him. They sat there like that, quiet. 

Bodhi realized that the knife-edge of self-doubt had dulled and the abyss of loneliness had receded. It might just be that he had cried himself out, that there weren’t any tears left in him. But he was fairly certain it had more to do with the fact that there was someone who, when he was falling apart, cared enough to stick around to make sure he held together.

Eventually, Shara said, “You know, Biggs doesn’t sound a damn thing like the scientist.” 

Bodhi snorted. “Well, yeah, that’s kinda the point. I’m not going to get over Galen if I spend all my time fucking his body-double.”

Shara chortled. “So, can you actually fuck someone out of your system?” 

Bodhi gave a sad smile. “Hasn’t worked for me yet. Biggs is just...fun. He’s safe, I trust him, he’s got his own helpless affection tied up somewhere else. No messy complications. Just have a good time and be a little less lonely for a while. My heart’s still pretty stubbornly set on Galen, though.” 

“Shame.” 

“Yeah. You might want to give it a try, though.” Bodhi pulled back, splaying a hand across his chest, coquettish. “You know, if you ever feel like being a little less lonely for a while, I have it on good authority I am nothing like Mr. ‘Broad Shoulders and Rippling Muscles’ Kes Dameron.” 

Shara broke out laughing. “Um. Ew. No.”

“Ew?” Bodhi grinned as he tried to keep up the mock indignation.

“I mean, no offence, Rook, but I know what I want, and it’s Kes. Sort of all-or-nothing deal for me.” 

Bodhi’s grin fell to something more somber and he said, “I get it.” Bodhi hesitated for a moment, then decided he wasn’t ready to go back to pretending he was dignified. He cuddled back up next to Shara again, relieved when she threw an arm across his shoulders. “I’m a little worried Galen was it for me, too.” 

Shara grunted. “You haven’t been here that long. Give it time?”

“About all I can do.” Bodhi fell silent for a long moment. It was nice, talking about this with someone external to it all. Made things feel more manageable. “I can't even resent Lyra. It'd be easier if I could but...she got me off Jedha. I’m pretty sure she figured out _exactly_ who I was to Galen less than a second after laying eyes on me, but she’s always respected me.”

“She sounds a little too perfect. Sure we shouldn’t want to hate her? Just a bit?” 

Bodhi chuckled. “She’s impossible to hate. We've been working together on this for a while now, she's just fantastic. Funny and smart and she gets this look in her eyes when she's determined about something and..." A fluttering bit of excitement sprang to life behind his ribs as he imagined Lyra's focused, dedicated eyes, and with a sinking sense of despair, Bodhi recognized it. He scrubbed his hands down his face. "Oh no."

He felt the twitching of Shara trying not to laugh next to him. "You're hopeless. Ever thought about inviting yourself to be the filling in an Erso sandwich?"

Bodhi abruptly had a coughing fit. As he caught his breath he choked out, "No. Oh fuck no. I am not—no."

"Your call. Seems like it might solve some of your problems, though."

Bodhi pulled back far enough to give Shara a half-hearted whack on her shoulder.

Shara grinned over at him. “What would you do without me?” 

“Probably still be crying in a ball in bed.” 

Shara’s face grew serious. “Yeah. Glad I came by.” 

Bodhi nodded. “Me too.” He looked off to the side. “Do...do you want me to report to medical?”

When he looked back up, Shara was biting her lip. “I don’t know. That was pretty fucking scary, Rook. Do you think it’s going to happen again?”

Bodhi gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t...know. I feel better now.”

“Bearing in mind that the only qualifications I have to help you with this is the fact that I also fly ships really fast and have been dumped, I’ve never seen you freak out when you’re flying.” 

Bodhi shook his head. “No. Flying makes sense. I know what to do.” 

Shara huffed. “Medical would probably ground you for a bit. Just to evaluate. I think…I’m not going to turn you in. Not until the Death Star is handled, at least. It’s too important. If we live through that we can figure things out then. I mean, if you feel you need to, go. But—cracked in the head or not—I’d rather have you flying with me.” 

Bodhi smiled over at Shara, grateful, and feeling more at peace than he had in a long, long time. 

Shara smiled back. “Just remember, we picked you. If you start doubting yourself like that again, it’s kinda like saying you don’t trust us. And my judgement is impeccable.” 

Something warm and hopeful settled into his bones. It took Bodhi a long while to realize it was happiness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Slightly spoilery warning information: Bodhi has a breakdown due to his diagnosed and untreated (space) PTSD (which is really just PTSD but...worldbuilding, you know). He gets support from a friend, his specific panic attack/breakdown is resolved, but he makes the choice not to seek out further mental health treatment at this time, for various reasons._
> 
> Also, real talk, I the author don't necessarily think Bodhi's making the right call here. I'm a huge proponent of getting the help you need to thrive, however grand or small your problems are. But, you know, writing, I had to stay true to the character and all that. And, honestly, sometimes in real life there are very real concerns about backlash when seeking out mental health treatment. It's often not a straight line from Realizing There's A Problem to Finding Someone Who Can Help, and that's the story we're exploring a bit here in the background of the Grand Death Star Struggle. 
> 
> Want to talk about it more? I'm always happy for a conversation in the comments, or you can find me on [tumblr.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sassysnowperson)


	8. Galen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Aeshna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshna/)  
>  gets special credit this section, as she helped me wrangle some important strategy pieces into their place in the story. I was sulking. I didn't want to edit anymore. She walked me through. :)

Cassian chewed on his bread roll and looked thoughtful. “I'm not certain I see what the problem is.”

Galen gave Cassian a dry look as he poked at at the mashed pile of some sort of vegetable on his plate. “My wife has suddenly and inexplicably decided to start eating lunch with my former lover. Who is over there looking vaguely terrified by the prospect. And today, they are joined by my daughter, who I am not entirely certain has given up her homicidal intentions toward the man. And you don't see what the problem is?”

“Jyn's decided she likes him now. She told me.”

Galen arched an eyebrow over at Cassian. 

Cassian clarified. “Her exact words were, 'Rook isn't terrible after all, he's going to show me how to work the gunning stations for a U-Wing on the sims.'”

“Oh…dear.” Galen shook his head. This couldn't bode well.

“It’s a good skill for her to have. And...is it really so bad that they’re talking?” 

Galen poked morosely at his food. “It has the potential to be. Humiliating. Awkward. Devastating. It all depends on what they talk about.” 

Cassian let out a slightly frustrated huff. “I don’t know what to think about you and Rook.” 

“I know what it looks like. I’m a great deal older. I don’t blame you for feeling uncomfortable.” 

Cassian narrowed his eyes and gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “No. Not that. That’s...between you and him. What I mean is the fact that he was your asset.” 

Galen made an uncomfortable noise as the corners of his mouth turned down.

“Except you make that face whenever you think about it like that,” Cassian continued. “If you were my agent I’d tell you that you need to accept the fact that you use people. That they are tools, and from them you can get information, or access, or leverage, and we use that to accomplish what we need.”

Galen's shoulders were tugged down and he stared at his plate. That was...a fair description of how he had used Bodhi. Galen hated it. 

“But you're invested. Emotionally. For an agent, that's bad.” Cassian shrugged. “But you're not a spy anymore. You can be a person. You're still treating him like an asset, though. Keeping your distance.” 

“I was trying to keep my distance precisely so he wouldn't”—Galen jabbed his fork, punctuating his point—“be treated like an asset.” 

“No. You limited your interaction after you had fulfilled your mission. I go my way, you go yours, all is well. Professional. On the outside. But inside”—Cassian circled his fork in a gesture that indicated around Galen’s head and chest—“you hate it. You need to figure out who he is. If he’s your asset, stop feeling guilty. If he’s your friend, or even your ex...you asked him for a favor that cost him more than you expected. And then stopped talking to him.” 

“That sounds cruel either way,” Galen said. 

“It is. But the way forward is different. So you need to figure out, was Bodhi your asset, or your friend?” Cassian shrugged. “That’s my take.” 

Galen went silent for a moment, taking a bite of his food and chewing slowly as he thought. “You’re a wise man, Cassian. Given me a lot to think about.” 

Cassian tipped his head to the side in a quick acknowledgement. 

“Cassian. I would prefer—if we both live through whatever comes next—that we not go our separate ways.” 

Galen looked over at Cassian, saw there was a tiny smile in the upturn of his mouth. Cassian looked at Galen and said, “You’re not my asset, Galen.” 

Answering smile on his own face, Galen returned to his plate.

* * *

Galen lurked at the outskirts of the Council meeting. Lyra stood next to him, both watching the chatter back and forth of various senators. Since joining the science team properly, Galen and Lyra had been given a more or less open invitation to the general Council meetings. It amused him—somewhat—to be welcome in the halls of power where the decisions that would shape the Rebellion were made, while still not entirely certain if he was going to be strung up for his crimes. 

His status was liminal, hero and traitor all rolled into one. People were never entirely certain how to treat him. 

The Council was panicking. Oh, they were doing it very diplomatically, with lots of robust debate and warnings that, "We must be careful about how we choose to utilize what power we have.” But after every emphatic statement or punctuated drama, the Council member’s eyes would slide sideways, looking over at Galen. 

Galen was beginning to feel like the Rebellion’s own boogieman. They believed him enough to be worried about a planet killer, but not enough to authorize any action against it. It was frustrating, it was maddening, and Galen ground his teeth in silence. 

Blue and Green were authorized for deployment, one securing a supply line and the other performing an extraction. These missions were needed, Galen understood, but he couldn’t help but think that the Rebellion was solving small problems and ignoring the huge looming issue. The Death Star was out there and nothing was being done. At least, nothing officially. 

Galen wasn’t certain how he felt to know that Bodhi had been demoted out of Green. He had always wanted to fly, and this had to be a blow. On the other hand, he was staying on base, still able to coordinate. That was a relief. 

And he was safe. Galen didn’t like the implications of how pleased that made him feel. Between Lyra and Cassian, though, he was becoming aware that he couldn’t really ignore those implications anymore. Bodhi was...not an asset. Galen just didn’t know what he _was_.

"I still think that a wise course of action would be to bring Dr. Erso to testify before the Imperial Senate." 

Galen pulled himself out of his musings with a twinge of alarm; next to him Lyra tensed, a slow steady intake of breath as she came alert. 

"We have already decided that Dr. Erso is more valuable to the Rebellion for his knowledge and technical skills, rather than as a symbol of testimony," Draven cut in, trying to put down that line of thinking. It had cropped up often in the beginning, but had been blessedly silent since then. 

" _You_ have decided that. We have not. With his testimony about the Death Star, the Imperial Senate will finally push for a vote to remove the Emperor from power." Senator Vaspar waved his hand with grand self-importance, as if his constructed future were already a reality. 

"Don't be ridiculous. You know the Senate is nothing more than rubber stamp approval of whatever Palpatine wants," Leia Organa said angrily. “That would only worsen with the news of a planet-destroying weapon. Or will you, Vaspar, volunteer to lead the vote against Palpatine yourself?” 

Vaspar paled and looked away. It was interesting, to see Bail's daughter there, as powerful and comfortable in her skin as her father. Galen wondered if that sort of ease ran in the family. Technically, she wielded more power than Bail anyway, with her formal election to the Imperial Senate. Galen understood that she was a powerful member of the Rebellion in her own right as well, but she had rarely been at Council meetings since Galen's arrival. 

“Besides,” Mon Mothma cut over the discussion, “we have learned, since Dr. Erso’s return, about the measures the Empire went to secure his service. If they knew he was alive, they would no doubt be desperately trying to get him back. If we decide to leverage Dr. Erso’s testimony, we will do so at a time and place of our choosing, when it is likely to make the best impact.” 

There was a general muttering of approval and Galen felt himself relax again. 

It wasn't that he didn’t want to denounce the weapon, to sing loudly from the rafters about the evils Krennic and Tarkin and Palpatine (and Erso, whispered his conscience) had created. But to go to Coruscant and throw himself into the heart of the Empire without an extraction plan…

In the best case scenario, Galen would die, and that was about as far as he was willing to think on that. 

* * *

“So, our best guess on gunning emplacements is here...here...and here…” Bodhi bit his lip as he leaned over the model, tracing the line of the trench to the exhaust port. 

Galen nodded. “I’m still not certain, but it matches the Star Destroyer schematics we have…” 

Bodhi nodded. “We can be flexible when we fly, too. Raner in Blue is a bit of a tech guy, he’s wired our targeting computers together to be able to sync when we update targets.” 

“Does that include Galen in the U-Wing?” Lyra asked. 

Bodhi nodded. “Yeah. Cassian’s piloting, right?” 

Galen inclined his head. “He has volunteered, and I believe he's planning to bring K-2SO. Between the two of them, they should be able to get me close enough that I can be entirely certain we're targeting the right port.” 

“You'll be able to paint the port from the U-Wing." Bodhi's eyes tightened slightly. "You're the critical piece.” 

Galen wondered, selfishly, if there were perhaps some part of Bodhi that wanted to keep him as safe as he had once hoped to keep Bodhi. Likely not, and just as well. It would have been just as doomed as Galen's attempts. 

Bodhi continued, “With the U-Wing, it’s almost impossible to know which of the ships will be on base when the time comes to strike. The targeting module that connects the U- can be installed easily, it just snaps in.” Bodhi pulled a small black metallic object out of his pocket. 

“I figure you can give this to Cassian? I think, if he knows targeting sensors, it should be fairly straightforward, but it plugs into the back here and—” 

Bodhi pointed at the same time Galen reached forward and their hands brushed. 

Galen’s skin lit up at the contact, excitement racing up his arm, radiating through his chest, so potent he could nearly taste it. It might have been fine, Galen could have hid the reaction, but a quick glance up at Bodhi’s face found Bodhi staring back at him. Bodhi’s eyes were wide and Galen held his gaze for a long second, unable to look away. 

A familiar shiver ran through Bodhi. That shiver, before, preceded Bodhi flinging himself into Galen’s arms, the herald of passion and pleasure and intimacy. Galen felt himself respond almost immediately, a deep and profound longing for the chance to hold Bodhi close again. 

Bodhi looked down and to the side, setting the module down on the table. “Here.”

Galen darted a guilty look over to Lyra, who had no doubt witnessed the whole debacle. Galen was certain that, her supposed understanding aside, it had to be painful to witness her husband be so obviously attracted to someone else. 

Lyra gave him a look that was equal parts affection and exasperation. Then, to Galen’s horror, Lyra leaned across the table and _laid her hand on Bodhi’s arm_. 

Why would she do that? It was probably supposed to send a message but Galen had no idea what he was supposed to receive. 

“Have you thought about your own ship? Is that going to be more difficult with the...change in position you went through?” 

It took Bodhi a minute to answer, as another small tremble ran through him as he stared at the hand on his arm. Eventually Bodhi swallowed and looked up at Lyra. “No, that’s not an issue. Merrick’s put aside the X-Wing I’ve done most of the flying on for repairs, but there’s nothing wrong with it. It’ll be ready to go when I am.”

Galen’s brows knit together. “Starfighter...Command...set aside a ship for you? Why would they do that?”

Bodhi shot Galen a confused look. “I didn’t tell you? I thought I...Huh. Um, okay, Merrick knows, he’s keeping it a secret for us.” 

Galen blinked. “Merrick is on board. General Antoc Merrick is going along with our plan.” 

“Yes. And Cor. And Kass. And Dreis. Everyone, really. You’ll have your pilots, Galen.” 

Lyra gave Bodhi a brilliant smile, hand tightening on his arm, excited. “That’s the best news we’ve heard in awhile.” She withdrew her hand after that, still smiling.

“Yes. That’s…phenomenal.” Galen turned the information over in his head. “With that, we can do a great deal. Perhaps one of the squadron leaders could make contact? To coordinate the actual attack?” 

Bodhi deflated. “No such luck, I’m afraid.” He swallowed hard, looking down at his hands. He folded them, unfolded, folded again in a nervous little gesture. “Rebellion’s watching Merrick and his squadron leaders closely, they’ve been too outspoken about this. Nobody’s watching a trainee. So I’m still the coordination point.” 

“Well, that’s acceptable. But you don’t need to fly.” Galen felt something in him lighten at the idea that Bodhi could be free of the most dangerous part. After all Bodhi had been through, he deserved some rest, some peace. 

He wasn’t expecting Bodhi’s eyes to flash at that, his hands to press together all the more tightly. “I don’t think you understand. When I said I was the coordination point, I meant for the strike. We don’t know who’s going to be here, in terms of squadrons. But no matter what, I will be.” 

It took a moment for Galen to filter the information. “You...are going to be leading the strike. On the Death Star.” 

Bodhi’s jaw twitched. “Yes.” 

How dare they. How _dare_ they. Bodhi was new, barely trained on starfighters and they were throwing him to the rancors. If the strike failed, if it all burned up in ash, Starfighter Command and all the brass would be able to wash their hands of the ordeal, and if Bodhi lived through it, it would all hang on his head. 

“That’s...preposterous. You don’t need to do that. There are more qualified pilots.” 

Bodhi took a deep breath, then put both his hands on the table, fingers splayed. He stood up, leaning forward slightly, pushing into Galen’s space. Galen, ready to continue being outraged on Bodhi’s behalf, glanced over at him and then froze. 

Bodhi looked furious. His eyes were narrow and his fingers slowly dug into the table as he clenched his jaw and said, “Screw. You.” 

“What?” Galen leaned back, baffled. 

“I don’t know _what_ your problem is,” Bodhi growled. “But you didn’t want to bring me in on this plan and now that I’m here anyway you’ve alternated between glaring at me and throwing condescending little jabs in my direction. You want me gone. Maybe it’s too difficult to work with your old bedwarmer. Or maybe it comes down to respect, and you just don’t feel like offering some to your former fucktoy. Maybe you’re hoping for someone more qualified.”

Galen blinked. He had never even thought of Bodhi like—that. That wasn’t it. Of course that wasn’t it. He tried to find some way to say just how wrong Bodhi was when Bodhi took an angry breath, then continued, voice low and deadly the entire time. “But you know what? I don’t care. I’m here. I’m qualified. I’m doing this.” 

Bodhi lifted up a hand and slammed it down on the table, voice starting to go rough with passion again. “It might get me killed, but Force help us all, I’m what we’ve got. So you need to get over whatever the _fuck_ is going on with you and teach me these schematics. Because whether you like it or not I’ve got forty-odd pilots willing to jump on my say-so, and I am _not_ going to fucking let them down because you can’t get over yourself.”

Bodhi glared at Galen. Galen stared back at Bodhi, eyes wide. 

“You know what?” Bodhi pushed strands of hair angrily out of his eyes. “Forget this. I’ll be back tomorrow, and I expect you to either reach a point where you can be okay working with me, or turn the schematic over to Lyra, she can coordinate. But I’m done taking your ever-so-polite disregard.”

And with that Bodhi stalked out of the room. 

Galen stared after him, mouth open. He looked over at Lyra. “I…” 

“That was a long time coming, Gale.” Lyra’s voice was firm. 

“I only want him safe.” 

“I know that. But you’ve never bothered explaining that to him.” Lyra stood up and walked to the door. 

“Where are you going?” Galen felt panic rise in him. He still didn’t understand exactly what happened with Bodhi. Had he ruined things with Lyra as well? 

“Not far, Love. But what he said...you need some time to think on it. I’ll see you this evening.”

With that, Lyra walked out the door and Galen was alone with his thoughts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW! That's a conversation that's been coming for a while now. :) 
> 
> Want to chat? Leave a comment, or, [I’m on Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sassysnowperson)


	9. Lyra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My continuing thanks to [Aeshna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshna/) for making this look pretty, and for cheering me on. :)

Lyra closed the lab door behind her, feeling a bit guilty at abandoning Galen but certain that he’d process better alone. 

She tried to look casual as she walked through the common rooms, jogging slightly when she saw the dark hair and trim figure of the pilot leaning against a nearby wall, looking exhausted. 

His eyes snapped up to her, wary. “I’m not apologizing.” 

“Good.” Lyra slowed to a stop in front of him. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for. Galen needed to hear it, and hopefully now he’ll stop being a great bloody idiot about things.” 

“We can only hope.” Bodhi tipped his head back against the wall. He looked tired, all the anger from before drained out, a slight twitch behind his closed eyelids and an occasional tremor running through his hands. “I normally wouldn’t press but...the Death Star being destroyed is more important than Galen’s feelings.” 

“Galen’s guilt.” Lyra felt her own frustration come huffing out. “He can’t let go of his damn guilt.” 

Bodhi slid one eye open. “I wonder why?” His voice was bone dry.

Lyra smothered a smile. She could practically hear Galen's intonation in Bodhi's words. She wondered if it was Galen rubbing off on Bodhi, or if their shared humor had drawn them together. Either way, she appreciated it. She responded, dry in turn, “I know, it is fairly obvious.” 

They stared at each other, slight smile showing on both their faces, and Lyra felt heartened at finding a spirit of shared humor. She continued, “He feels miserably about what happened to you.” 

At the same time, Bodhi said, “Something to do with the two of us being in the same place.” 

Bodhi and Lyra stared at each other, falling silent in the hallway. 

“I don’t think he really—”

“That’s not the primary—”

They fell silent again. Eventually, Lyra said, “Walk with me?” 

Bodhi gave an exhausted smile. “I’ve been doing a lot of walking and talking with people lately.” 

“Not like this, I suspect.” 

Bodhi pushed off the wall. “No, probably not.” He gestured down the hallway. “After you.” 

They walked out to the gardens, mostly in silence. Lyra steered them over to the herb garden, finding some peace in her meditation spot. Eventually, she broke the silence. “What happened to you is tearing him apart. It’s nearly impossible for him to even talk about it.” 

Bodhi didn’t look at Lyra, shoved his hands in his pockets and stared out over the garden. After a moment, he said, “I’m sure he feels badly. I believe he didn’t want to see me hurt. It’s not the main thing that’s going on, though.” 

“Of course it is. Why else would you think he didn’t want to bring you on?” 

“Because you don’t keep your fling in close orbit when you’re trying to rebuild things with your wife.” 

Bodhi should have sounded bitter, not resigned. Lyra knew that if their positions were reversed, she wouldn’t have stepped aside so gracefully. She suspected Bodhi was a far better person than she was. No wonder Galen had fallen for him. 

Lyra tried to shape her response as gently as possible. “That’s not it. It’s because he didn’t want to hurt you further. When he talks about you, all he wants is for you to be happy, for you to have the chance to find some peace.”

“He’s got a strange way of showing it.” 

“Yes, well, he’s picked what your peace should look like and doesn’t seem all that interested in finding out whether or not it’s actually what you want. It’s why he keeps trying to shut you out.”

Bodhi didn’t answer, just stared out over the garden with a thoughtful look on his face.

After a beat, Lyra continued, “He also seems to be laboring under the delusion that leaving you alone is the kindest thing he can do. He told me that you can barely stand being around him.” Lyra snorted. “We both know that’s not true.” 

A sideways glance over at Bodhi confirmed a pink tinge across his cheeks. “It’s sort of true.” Bodhi’s voice went soft. “I don’t trust myself around him. I miss him too much.”

“Of course you do.” Lyra looked back over the garden. “He was the only familiar thing here. Your one light in the dark. Of course you miss him.” 

Bodhi turned, looking over at her, a flat expression on his face. “I don’t just miss his fucking company, Lyra.” 

Lyra looked back at him. “No. You miss his company, fucking.” 

For a moment, Bodhi’s face remained impassive. Then something twitched at the corner of his mouth and he let all his breath out in a huff that was almost a laugh. An answering smile tugged at Lyra’s face, and she did not entirely succeed in keeping it inside.

“That covers it, yeah.” Bodhi rolled his eyes. “And Galen knows it. You saw that little display a minute ago? He brushed my hand and looked over at you like he had been shot. Galen’s made his choice, and regardless of whether or not he wants me safe, it’s also convenient if I’m not around.” 

“I really don’t think that’s it. I told him I’m fine with it.” 

“Being fine with the past doesn’t make the present acceptable.” 

Lyra opened her mouth, then closed it again. She made a humming noise. “You really think that’s bothering him?”

Bodhi gave a harsh laugh. “Yes. Why...why don’t you? Seems fairly obvious, given the circumstances. And why in the blazes isn’t it bothering you, for that matter? ” Bodhi gave an irritated sort of gesture before tucking his hand away again. “Sorry, you don’t need to answer that, I’m getting a bit personal, there.” 

“No...after all this, you deserve some context. Kriff. What a mess.” Lyra tucked some hair behind her ears and took a moment to think. “Galen and I took thirds. I’d find someone I thought would work well with us, I’d talk it over with Galen, and if they were willing we’d bring them in. It was good. When you showed up, I just...slotted you into that category. It never bothered me. I’m glad Galen wasn’t alone.” 

“Huh.” Bodhi chewed on his lip. “I’m surprised, honestly. Galen was reserved enough that I always felt special for breaking through his formality. Felt like an accomplishment.” He shot her a look after he said it, a little worried. 

Lyra gave an internal sigh. Worried he had gone too far? This whole conversation was potentially explosive. Still, the way out was through, and she picked her way forward. “Oh, don’t doubt that you were special. You were. In the past, I was always the instigator, Galen never…” Lyra trailed off, blinking. “Oh. That...could explain some things.”

“Galen’s never been great at talking about what he wants.” Bodhi's expression was rueful.

“Or even knowing what he wants, these days. I’ve spent more than a fair bit of time guessing.” 

“That’s rude. Make you do all the work.” 

“I don’t mind. After he’s spent so long a prisoner...I like being able to give Galen what he wants.” Lyra turned, angling herself more toward Bodhi. She took a breath. “He wants you.” 

Bodhi gave a sad smile. “He wants you more.” 

“And are we certain this needs to be a one-or-the-other sort of situation?” Lyra’s heart pounded in her chest. She wanted this to work. She was invested, more than she had expected to be. “I wouldn’t mind if you and Galen picked things back up again. In favor, actually. I like you.” 

Bodhi just looked at her for a long moment. Lyra fought the urge to fidget. She had survived thirteen years on the run, she was not about to be undone by a pair of kind, considering brown eyes. Bodhi seemed to reach some sort of internal decision, giving a short nod, “That’s good to know. Galen still needs to pull his head out of his arse, though.”

Lyra laughed, she couldn't help it. “That's fair.” 

Her laughter died off when Bodhi stepped closer again, bare inches away from her. His tongue darted out over his lips and Lyra froze, transfixed. 

“Out of curiosity...got any plans beyond pushing Galen and me together?” Bodhi asked, and there was something sparkling in his eyes as he brushed his hand along her cheekbone, tucking a flyaway strand behind her ear. Lyra fought the urge to lean into the contact, something in her stomach fluttering as Bodhi’s hand lingered along her jaw. 

Bodhi guided Lyra’s head down and went up on his toes, placing a light kiss to the center of Lyra’s forehead, a mirror of the gesture she had given him, all those weeks ago. 

Lyra’s heart picked up even faster as she stared at Bodhi, struck speechless. She felt a sudden twist deep in her belly, a heated flush run through her. She had to stop herself from tangling her fingers in Bodhi’s hair and dragging him in for a proper kiss.

What was this? She hadn’t felt this way in ages, almost giddy with desire. 

Bodhi had a small, nervous smile on his face as he pulled back. “I’ve been enjoying our lunches,” he said. He took a step back, putting more space between them. 

There was an awkward silence for a moment, and Bodhi fidgeted, shifting from one side to the other. Lyra felt like she should probably say something, but before she could figure it out, Bodhi said, “I should probably be going. But thanks for the talk. You’ve...given me a lot to think about.” 

Lyra swallowed. “As have you.” 

Bodhi smiled, and it touched the corners of his eyes. He was beautiful. He was smiling for Lyra. Bodhi leaned forward, said, “Good.” He laid his hand on her shoulder as he moved past her, fingers pressing lightly into her back. 

Her skin was warm long after Bodhi pulled away. 

* * *

Lyra sat at the table across from Galen, dimly aware of him as he fiddled with power flow on a shielding system. Mostly, though, she was lost in fluctuating data, eyes going slightly unfocused as she scanned through the columns of numbers, familiarity seamlessly translating it into habitable and non-habitable planets, temperate zones, agricultural production…

A throat cleared to her left and Lyra startled, reflexes suddenly firing, hand going for a blaster she no longer carried. She found Bodhi, standing in the doorway, giving the room a small wave. 

Bodhi, blessedly, didn’t seem fussed by her overreaction. Instead, he stuck his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath. “So. Who am I working with today?”

Lyra glanced over at Galen. He hadn’t said anything about Bodhi last night after she had finally returned to the room. Just as well. Lyra was certain now was not the best time to have the, ‘I approve of you and Bodhi naked and horizontal, by the way. Oh, and Love, when I told him that, he made a pass at me too. I think. I hope?’ conversation. 

Lyra resigned herself to being infected by their ridiculousness, as she tried very hard to ignore the little flitter of want dancing through her. 

Galen cleared his throat. “Bodhi. Please sit. I have something I need to say. To both of you.” Galen gestured at both Bodhi and Lyra. Bodhi pulled himself up on a stool and Lyra settled down, elbows on the desk. 

Galen looked at Bodhi. “I owe you both an apology.” Galen took a breath, folding his hands in front of him. “First, Bodhi, I never intended disrespect. But I have given it to you anyway. I disregarded your desire to be involved as the fruit of my manipulation. And in doing that, I thoughtlessly declared you incapable of making your own choices. I am profoundly sorry.” 

Bodhi raised his eyebrows, looking nearly impressed. He opened his mouth to say something, but Galen waved him off with a small smile. “Please. I'm not quite done groveling yet.”

Bodhi gestured for Galen to continue. 

Galen took a breath. “I was so caught up in my self-imposed self-flagellation, I missed how poorly I was treating you. Lyra didn’t, she tried to speak with me, and I dismissed her. And for that, I apologize to the both of you.” 

Galen unfolded his hands, turning them up toward Lyra and Bodhi, plea in his posture. “I...have not handled us well, Bodhi. You remind me of a painful time and I...thought it would be best to ignore it.” 

Galen paused, muscle in his jaw twitching. Bodhi leaned forward, saying softly, “Galen, I understand.”

“But you don’t." Galen shook his head, looking regretful. "Bodhi, you have been brave and resilient and faithful. No matter what sharp memories come along with your presence, I need you to know that I have nothing but respect for you. It is a privilege to work with you. If you are still willing to work with me.” 

“That’s...a lot.” Bodhi gave a small chuckle of disbelief. “I suppose you’ve never done things by halves.”

“Not his style,” Lyra said with a small grin over at Bodhi. 

“I endeavor to be thorough. Particularly when it’s important.”

“I forgive you, Galen.” Bodhi’s hand twitched, and for a moment, Lyra thought he was going to reach over and rest it in Galen’s palm. But he seemed to think the better of it, instead pulling his hand back closer to himself and saying, “Well, let's figure out how to kill a Death Star.” 

Galen let out a small breath, his relief plain to Lyra. Smile in the corner of his eyes, Galen leaned forward and toggled the display on. 

* * *

When they eventually returned to their quarters, Lyra waited until the door slid shut before stepping into Galen’s space, her hands on his chest shoving him against the wall and going up on her toes to kiss him. 

After a soft, surprised noise, Galen responded, his hands reaching for Lyra, one large warm hand along the small of her back, deft fingers tangling through her hair. Lyra made encouraging noises and pushed up further, one hand sliding up to wrap around the back of Galen’s head, holding him in place as she kissed him. 

Lyra pulled back, and Galen tipped, making like he was about to chase her before he swayed backward, his head lightly thunking against the wall. “Well that was delightful, if entirely unanticipated.” 

“Oh, you know me, Gale. A good grovel always gets me going.” Lyra leaned in, resting her lips against the skin at Galen’s neck, tracing words against his skin as she said with a whisper, “I love you so much.”

The hand along her head tightened, pressing her harder against his neck. Lyra stiffened _toomuchtoocontainedcan’t_ but she slowly breathed through it and placed a nipping kiss against Galen’s neck. 

Galen exhaled roughly, his voice thick as he responded. “I love you too. Boundlessly. I hope—I hope I never give you cause to doubt that.” 

Lyra pulled back with a lopsided smile on her face. “Not at all." At Galen's continued discomfited look, she asked, "Is it time for our weekly Bodhi talk?” 

“Becoming daily at this point,” Galen grumbled. He sighed. “You are my wife and the love of my life. I shouldn’t still want him.”

“Galen. When has it ever been one or the other between us?” 

“He’s different. I can’t—there’s too much there.” Galen closed his eyes. “I don’t even know how to begin untangling it.” 

“That’s…understandable. And I will leave this alone, but I need to say it clearly, at least once. I approve of you picking things back up with him.”

A shudder ran through Galen, and Lyra couldn’t tell if it was pain or pleasure. “I wouldn’t—”

“That’s your choice. But I’ve made mine. And now I am going to stop meddling.” Lyra screwed up her nose, a calculatedly adorable gesture, as she was fairly certain Galen would not like what she had to say next. “‘Going to’ being the operative words there. Bodhi and I have already talked about this. I let him know where I stand.”

Galen opened his eyes and arched an eyebrow down at her. “You did get back to the rooms rather late.” 

Lyra felt heat on her cheeks. 

“Lyra!” Galen’s voice was warm, his hands moving to her face, thumbs tracing across her cheekbones. There was a note of laughter in his voice as he said, “Blushing? What happened to my stalwart, battleworn wife?”

Lyra laughed, ducking out of Galen’s hands. “Bodhi Rook’s very lovely brown eyes, that’s what happened.” She looked up at Galen. “I think he made a pass at me? I can’t be sure, it’s…”

“Oh.” Galen went very silent, his eyes going wide. 

“Is this going to be a problem?” Lyra could feel herself tense, vulnerability singing energy into her limbs, ready to run, ready to strike. 

“Not in the least.” Galen’s firmly emphatic tone loosened some of the cords drawing tight along Lyra’s back. “I simply had never considered…that is a very compelling mental image.” 

The rest of the tension left Lyra, and she smiled over at Galen. “Now you see what I’ve been dealing with…" Lyra let her tone go deep and suggestive. "The two of you are beautiful together, I’m sure.” 

Galen made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. 

Lyra carefully slipped back into the circle of Galen’s arms. “It’s nice,” Lyra slid her hands up his chest, “to put aside the difficult history and the galactic struggles for a bit and just be two people.” Lyra wrinkled her nose. “Two people with a _horrendous crush_. Stars, how did this happen to me?” 

Galen slowly slid his arms back around her. “Well, he does have lovely eyes. And a good heart.” They stood there like that for a handful of heartbeats, before Galen spoke again. “Lyra, I…promise nothing. It’s still too much. But I will think about it.”

Lyra smiled up at him. “Good. And in the meantime, you can kiss me some more.” 

“One of my favorite pastimes.” 

“I'm curious what the others a…” was as much as Lyra managed before Galen’s lips were on hers again, and she forgot whatever it was that she was going to say. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's a conversation that's been coming for a while, now hasn't it. Slowly, we get there. 
> 
> Still that Death Star thing to worry about, though...hm.
> 
> Want to chat? Leave a comment, or find me over on [Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sassysnowperson)


	10. Bodhi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Aeshna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshna/) is a fantastic beta, many thanks for every spelling error you caught, comma you adjusted, and for every time a mysterious limb belonging only to a "him" found it's proper name identifier :D

Bodhi sighed and poked at his food. Green Squadron was off, and it was painfully obvious that he had been left behind. Never mind that the pilot corps knew the reason, Bodhi could practically taste everyone else’s judgement and it made it all the harder to silence the yammering in his head. 

_Not good enough._

_Failure._

_Why are you even here?_

The talk with Shara had helped immeasurably, given him the confidence to tell Galen off. Stand up for himself. And yet his mind still sat up and screamed worthlessness at him, and Bodhi couldn't shake the feeling that he was going to fall apart and doom the galaxy. 

Jyn slid into the table across from him. She reached forward and stole some fruit off of his plate. At this point, Bodhi was about eighty percent sure it was a gesture of affection, though twenty percent of him was suspicious that Jyn just preferred eating food that had already proved not to be poisonous. 

Bodhi looked up, gave her a half-smile. 

“You look like crap,” Jyn said, with her usual graceful and circumspect nature. 

Bodhi returned in kind, “Feel like it too.” 

“Come on,” Jyn stole his tray and started walking. 

Not having any better ideas, Bodhi followed his food. Jyn led him out of the mess hall, along a narrow corridor that Bodhi recognized as berthing for…not pilots. Bodhi wasn’t certain who it was for until Jyn keyed in the door code. Pathfinders then. 

Bodhi had just enough time to wonder if he should be concerned that Jyn was taking him back to her rooms before the door opened to reveal Cassian cross-legged on the only bed, disassembled blaster rifle in front of him and cleaning cloth in his hands. 

So...either Cassian was suddenly very comfortable in Jyn's room, or Jyn felt comfortable barging into Cassian's. Bodhi ran through what he knew of the two of them, and figured with near-certainty that this was, in fact, Cassian's room. 

“Jyn,” Cassian raised an eyebrow. “And...Bodhi?” 

“He looked terrible and I couldn’t talk to him in the mess about anything useful.” 

“So you dragged him here,” Cassian said, even as he started clearing up the disassembled blaster to make a clear spot on the bed. Jyn set Bodhi’s tray down on Cassian’s desk and patted the chair, before she sat down in the cleared spot, legs dangling off the side of the bed. 

“Yeah, well, I know your room isn’t bugged." Jyn said as she settled in, flashing Cassian a smile. 

Bodhi watched their ease in each other’s space with some amusement. Two very defensive people, finding some peace with each other. Well, good. They deserved it. 

"So.” Jyn turned her attention back to Bodhi. “Why do you look so miserable?”

Bodhi tried to avoid the topic. “Don't worry. The plan is fine. Everything’s humming along. It sucks that we’re down half the fleet right now, but everyone stationed here is on board. It’s just stressful.” 

“That,” Jyn gave a vague gesture that encompassed Bodhi’s face and most of his upper torso, “is not just stress. Spill.” 

Bodhi really did not want to have a crying jag in front of two people he was supposed to be coordinating an insurrection with. He went with the least concerning symptom of his current fucked-up state. “Nightmares.” 

Cassian nodded. “You’ve got enough to have nightmares about.” 

“No shit,” Jyn added. “I wouldn't be surprised if you had a full-on trauma disorder. You know, flashbacks, irritability, overreaction, all that.” 

Bodhi blinked slowly, feeling uncomfortably exposed. Jyn misread his look. “Mum dragged me to a mind-healer as soon as we got to base. I'm mostly fine. Apparently,"—Jyn affected a stiff tone—"The presence of my mother was a strong protective factor." The formality fell off again. "Mum's going through some stuff, though. She put a lot of stress on herself, to make sure I was safe. But the mind-healers have helped. Have you talked with them?” 

“Um.” Bodhi licked his lips, staring down at his plate. “No. And please don’t tell them.” 

Cassian exhaled softly in understanding. “They might pull you from your pilot slot.”

“Oh…” Jyn was drawn up short. “Yeah. And we need you.” 

“I won’t let the plan down. I’m fine when I fly. I just need to hold it together until then.” 

Cassian nodded and Jyn whacked his arm. “Don’t nod! No. It’s not just about holding things together.” Jyn pulled out her comm.

"What are you doing?" Bodhi said, panicked, half a second away from trying to yank the comm out of her hand and probably getting killed for his trouble. 

"I'm not going to get you pulled. Trust me?"

Bodhi looked at Jyn, and decided he did. He gave a short nod.

Jynn raised her comm again. "Oddir? Got a minute?" 

A second later, the comm crackled and a rumbling voice came over the small speaker. "Jyn? What can I do for you."

"I've got another one that's debating whether or not they should come talk to you guys. Looks like trauma, nightmares, that sort of thing. Can you send a packet over to my padd?" 

"Of course," Oddir said easily. "I appreciate your evangelism, as always." 

The comm cut off, and Jyn tucked it away. "He'll send some info over. It's half information, and half stuff you can do on your own that might help. You're not the first person I've talked to that—what?" Jyn cut herself off when she looked up, and saw Bodhi's face. 

Bodhi wasn't sure what his face was doing, but if it was anything like Cassian's, it was showing a sort of restrained incredulity. Bodhi briefly considered the differences between him and Cassian and figured that he probably just looked shocked. 

"It was an unexpected solution," Cassian said diplomatically. 

"It's a resource." Jyn's voice was tight. "I don't understand why so many people just…don't use the resources we have here. Medics and mind-healers, mechanics, translators, tailors, chefs, there's so much here…" Jyn's hands had clenched into fists, and she smoothed them out with a deliberate gesture. "It seems wasteful not to use them." 

Bodhi wasn't sure what to do in the face of that outburst. Fortunately, Cassian wasn't similarly stuck. He reached forward and laid three fingers on Jyn's knee. Jyn's tension bled out of her, and she looked up at him with a small smile. 

"Sensible." Cassian's voice was almost tender.

Jyn nodded, and Cassian withdrew his hand. Bodhi shifted, feeling like he was witnessing the edge of something intimate and private. 

Jyn swallowed, and Bodhi could watch her wall come back up as she turned to him. “I have been on the run with my mum since I was seven years old. All we had was each other. So I'm terrible at people things, and I have the empathy of a lump of space rock, but you'd better believe I know how to identify assets and use them.” 

Bodhi felt a smile creep into the corner of his mouth. “You picked up on the fact that I was stressed. You’ve at least got the empathy of a crab of some kind. Maybe even a rodent.” 

Jyn gave him a toothy grin in return. “I’m not at all sure about that. Have you met a scrap mouse? They’re very emotionally aware.” 

Bodhi found himself laughing, and Jyn looked pleased. It softened her features immensely. Bodhi felt compelled to make some sort of an offer. “I’ll read it, I promise. And if I still need help after...all this, I'll get it.” 

Jyn gave a sharp nod. “Good. Now tell me what you’ve figured out about the stationary cannons on the Death Star.”

Bodhi swallowed, glad of the topic change, and shifted the conversation into strategy. 

* * *

By the time he left Cassian's room, there was a new datadisk tucked in his pocket, copied off of Jyn's datapad. Healer Oddir worked quickly. 

It was a relief, he had to admit, to see in scrolling text the habits and thoughts he had spent so long desperately trying to hide described clinically and without judgement. It was just what happened to people when they went through shit. It sucked. It could be handled. 

Bodhi still skittered away from Medical. The risks were too great, for now. He could work on a long-term solution if, by some miracle, he lived through his decision to fly an X-Wing at the lynchpin of the Empire’s war machine. Until then, he’d do his best. 

And, in one tiny miracle after another, things got better. 

Bodhi could feel confidence settle in on him as he provided clandestine instruction to the various squadrons. That screaming voice in his head quieted as he deliberately dismissed it, forcing himself to lean into the truth around him: people respected him, they listened to him, and things were working because he was involved.

Even plotting with Galen and Lyra was easy now. What had once been a breathtakingly difficult gauntlet of pain and self-denial shifted, the worst of the tension gone now that desire was no longer being the bantha in the room. 

Nobody was pushing anything, which was fine with Bodhi. Lyra’s comments about him and Galen still caused his brain to spark and writhe with nervous excitement. He was content to have time to think, to breathe, to watch. 

Bodhi had started watching much more carefully, recently. They were beautiful together, and slowly growing more comfortable in Bodhi’s presence: Galen’s elegant fingers against Lyra’s shoulder, Lyra’s foot propped up on his thigh. They let Bodhi see these intimacies, and it warmed his heart.

Also gave him some interesting dreams, that were a very _pleasant_ change from the nightmares. 

He let his casual thing with Biggs die off. Aside from the possible command implications (and wasn’t that a strange thought?), he found he just didn’t have the need for it anymore. Besides, Biggs was making noises about visiting Alderaan after this last mission was handled. Bodhi suspected that Biggs was quickly losing interest as well.

But better couldn’t last forever. 

“Rook.” 

Bodhi looked up from the formation plans he was reviewing to find Wedge, shaking with barely-contained emotion, a slight sheen of sweat against his forehead. Wedge's hands were clenched into fists, he looked like a man barely holding himself together. Bodhi swallowed, sudden foreboding causing his stomach to twist. 

Wedge, catching his expression, gave a short nod of confirmation. “Dreis sent me to find you. The Death Star’s at Chandrila. Entered the system two hours ago.”

Bodhi took a shaking breath, involuntarily remembering the shadow falling over the ruin of Jedha, durasteel nightmare blocking the sun. “Are they threatening? Posturing?” A plea crept in on the edges of his words.

Wedge’s face, always hard to read, sank even further into stone. “No. Fifteen minutes ago, the Death Star destroyed Chandrila.” 

Bodhi ran his fingers through his hair. That had always been an outside chance. The Empire wanted terrified obedience, and it had no qualms about how many lives were lost to get there. “Fuck." Bodhi clenched his fingers hard, let the sharp tug at his hair ground him, keep him focused on what needed to be done. "That's Mothma’s planet.”

“It is. She…she held the Council together long enough to turn things over to Dodonna. She retreated to her quarters. Nobody's seen her since then." Wedge's voice turned rough, before he took a slow breath and forced the emotion back down. "They’re locked in deliberation. Cor says…they’re not going to order an assault. Not anytime soon.” 

Bodhi looked up at Wedge, and something heavy passed between them. “Is…is the Death Star still there?” 

“As far as we know.” 

Bodhi started heading toward the door. “I need to find Galen.” 

“The Ersos are being held in their own quarters.” 

Bodhi glared at Wedge, who met his gaze, something furious behind his eyes. “People know Galen’s role, and a lot of people love Chandrila. Love Mothma.” Wedge looked away, another deliberate breath where he forced his shoulders down and his chin up. "It's for their safety."

Bodhi reluctantly acknowledged the logic of that. “Don’t order the launch yet, but get everyone together as quietly as you can. And keep your comm on.”

Wedge nodded. 

* * *

Bodhi was relieved to find the hallway empty as he approached the Ersos' door. He considered just slipping in—Lyra had very deliberately given him the door code, which, at the time, had caused him to flush to the tips of his ears. The only consolation was that Galen had turned an even more vivid shade of red. But if they had been taken to their rooms for a safety reason, it was better to announce himself. 

Bodhi knocked on the door, sharp raps. “It’s Bodhi!” 

The door slid open. Bodhi’s mind was fixed on Galen, he needed to— 

Bodhi was stopped short by a blaster to his face. The blaster was connected to a hand which was connected to Kes Dameron’s firm expression. “State your business.”

Bodhi gave Kes an exasperated look, words tumbling out as he said, “I need to talk to Galen.” 

Bodhi’s eyes darted around the room—behind Kes, Lyra and Galen were sitting on the bed. He couldn't see Jyn. He figured out where she was quickly when, from behind him, a firm voice ordered, “Blaster down, Kes. He’s clear.”

Bodhi waited, wary, as Kes lowered his blaster, a curious but not hostile expression on his face. Bodhi gave Jyn a short nod as he moved into the room and turned his attention to Galen. 

Galen looked like a husk. He hadn’t looked up when the door opened, took no notice of Bodhi’s approach. 

Shit. This was bad. 

Lyra stood. “I take it you heard.” 

“Yeah.” Bodhi moved to stand in front of Galen, whose eyes remained fixed in front of him, his mind a million light-years away. 

Lyra’s hand rested on Bodhi's arm. He looked over and his heart contracted at the near-frantic worry hiding behind her normally stalwart features. “Galen...isn’t doing well. He’s not really responding.” 

Bodhi nodded. He gently removed his arm from Lyra’s grip and moved again, getting between Galen and the wall. He considered the situation. He adored Galen's beautiful mind, but after knowing the man for years he was all too aware of how that mind could trap him. Galen looked lost. Lost in his own horror, his nightmare come true. 

A frisson of anger ran through Bodhi. This thing wasn't Galen's fault, but he damn well needed Galen to fix it. Which meant he needed to get Galen back. 

Right. He could do this. Flight instructor voice. Bodhi took a deep breath. “Galen,” he snapped, pleased to hear his voice ring strong and not waver. 

Galen stayed staring blankly ahead. For the love of— Bodhi grabbed Galen's chin and dragged his gaze up. For a second, the pale eyes stayed fixed on some distant horizon, but then they flickered back to Bodhi. Bodhi could see, in the tiny fluctuations of Galen's face, the horror starting to overwhelm him again. 

Galen’s chin bucked, white pressure spots forming where Bodhi’s fingers tightened to keep him in place. “Galen. How long is the hyperdrive cycle time on the Death Star?”

Bodhi saw the moment it shifted, that Galen's mind, given something different to work on, stopped tearing itself apart. “Thirteen minutes,” Galen answered, his voice still dull but, thank the stars, _responding_. 

Bodhi’s relaxed his hand slightly, cradling Galen's chin, rather than gripping it. Galen didn't try to shy away again, and Bodhi asked, “Same power system as the laser, or redundant systems?” 

“Same.” 

“Good. Considering the power drain stressors, how long is the hyperdrive cycle time after a full-strength firing sequence?”

Galen blinked, slowly, growing more alert by the moment. “I...don’t know.” 

“You’ve got two minutes to figure it out. Give me a range if you need to.” Bodhi saw Galen's datapad on the desk, tossed it in front of Galen. 

Bodhi waited, heart in his throat as he waited for Galen to move. He had an idea. A plan. But he needed Galen working, needed his mind on their side. 

Galen picked up the datapad. Thank fuck. 

Bodhi glanced around the room, trying to work out the situation. Galen and Lyra had been moved to their quarters for safekeeping. Kes and Jyn seemed to be serving as bodyguards—Bodhi supposed Kes had been cleared as friendly to the Ersos. Which was good, aside from the _slight_ fact that they were planning to rebel against the Rebellion, and Kes, with his broad shoulders and blaster rifle, was going to be an issue. 

Of course, Lyra and Jyn were both in the room. They likely already had a plan. Bodhi glanced back over to Lyra and sure enough, a small blaster pistol was tucked against her outer thigh, where Kes couldn't see.

Bodhi decided to leave the fighting to the experts and focus on not giving the game away. He turned his attention back to Galen, waiting impatiently for the calculations, determined to not engage with Kes at all. 

Kes did not get the message. “Hey, so you’re Shara’s friend, right?” 

He sounded friendly and casual, and Bodhi almost felt rude for plotting his imminent unconsciousness. Kriff. Hopefully unconsciousness. Jyn got on with Kes, right? She wouldn't kill him. Shara would murder him if he got Kes killed. 

“Yes. Shara helped get me get settled in Green.” Bodhi fell silent again, looking back over at Galen's rapid typing, hoping that Kes would get the message. 

He didn't. Undaunted by the short reply, he continued his valiant attempt at small talk. “She and I knew each other, before.” He turned to Jyn, adding, “We joined the Rebellion together.” 

“She mentioned that,” Bodhi said, wincing at his own flat tone. Unable to resist the barb, he added, “Among other things.” 

Bodhi slid his eyes back over to Kes, satisfied to see him flush slightly and look away. Good. Shara was incredible, and however noble his reasons, it was stupid to let her go. An awkward silence settled over the room.

Before Bodhi could decide whether or not he wanted to push further, Galen's voice broke the silence. “After a fully powered firing sequence, it will take between two hours fifteen minutes and five hours ten minutes to jump the Death Star to hyperspace. Apologies for the range, but there are a number of variables…” 

Bodhi watched as Galen almost crawled back in on himself again, but he was looking at Bodhi, waiting, keeping himself in the moment. Bodhi reached forward and pushed some hair from Galen’s forehead. “Stay with me, Galen. It’s going to take about half an hour to scramble the ships and launch, two hours flight time. If we go now, we can catch it.” 

“We might miss it.” Galen was locked on Bodhi.

“Might. Let me worry about that. Is there any reason on your end not to launch?”

Galen slowly shook his head. 

This was it. They were going. Bodhi was leading them and they were going and for a moment, the terror clawed at his mind— _worthlessuselessnotenoughgoingtofailgoingtofailgoingto_ —but Bodhi pushed through it. He was here. He was willing.

Bodhi pulled his shoulders back, lifted his chin, and said, “Good.” His eyes went to Jyn. “Get Cassian called up. Black in thirty.” 

“Whoa, what are we talking about? Did the Rebellion authorize a strike?” Kes’s eyes darted around. 

Bodhi took a half-step backward, making sure Lyra had a clear line on Kes. 

“Sorta,” Jyn answered, pulling out her comm. 

“Sort—if the Rebellion authorized it, it’d be Dreis in here asking the hyperspace questions, not a trainee. I...I can’t let you do this.” Kes started reaching for his own comm. 

In a flurry of movement, Jyn had Kes’s arms pinned, and Lyra slammed against his knees. Kes fell hard, and as Jyn moved to pin him entirely, Lyra stripped him of his comm and blaster. “Apologies, Kes. But you don’t really get to make that call.” 

Kes struggled against the hold, a wild straining of muscles that soon collapsed. Sounding a little heartbroken, Kes asked, “How long have you been planning this?” 

Jyn's face crumpled, looking sorrowful, before it smoothed out to a dispassionate mask. “Since the beginning, just about.” 

Kes closed his eyes, turning his face to the ground. 

“Galen and Cassian need to move," Lyra said, giving a meaningful glance to Kes and gesturing with her blaster pistol. Jyn's mask wavered, then smoothed out again, jerking out a short nod. 

Bodhi had an idea. Staying Lyra with an outstretched hand, he knelt down by Kes's head and asked, “Do you trust Shara?”

Kes’s eyes opened again, face set in suspicious lines. “Of course.” 

“Shara trusts me. She’s on board with the strike.” 

“Easy to say.” Kes futilely tried to twist against the hold.

Bodhi leaned down next to Kes's ear. Quietly hoping he wasn't entirely damning any chance Shara ever had with the guy, he whispered, "She asked you to marry her and you said no. You said there wasn't any point getting together with how often you'd be separated. She disagrees, but she understands, and she still thinks the two of you made the right decision, because there are certain things you can't stand by and watch happen. The Death Star is one of those things."

Bodhi watched Kes’s eyes go wide, a hitch in his breath before he slumped in Jyn's hold. “Guess she does trust you.” 

Bodhi pushed himself up and said to the room, “Which is why, for her sake, I'm going to give you a choice. We can knock you out, and if things go south you can say there was nothing you could do. Or, if you're willing to give us a hand, you can help get Galen to the launch pad. There's a lot of anger, and you'd be useful in helping keep him safe.” 

Kes considered for a moment, then shrugged as best he could in Jyn's grip. “What the hell. Okay. I’m in.” 

As Jyn let Kes go and he shuffled to his feet, Lyra caught Bodhi's elbow. "You're sure?" she asked him in an undertone, her other hand still hovering near the blaster. 

"No," Bodhi answered quickly, "but I'm never sure about anything, and this is my best guess." 

Lyra gave a sharp chuckle. "Alright then." She let go of his arm, looking from Galen to Kes. "I'm going too," she declared abruptly. 

"Me too," Jyn added. 

Bodhi watched as Galen's face turned pale, eyes darting back and forth between the two of them. "No. I'm needed. You're not. I don't—"

"Galen. You're not alone anymore." Lyra stepped close to him, her hand brushing his cheek. "There is no way I let you get on that ship and leave me. Not again. I'm not letting it take you again." 

Jyn nodded seriously, coming over to lay a hand on Galen's shoulder. "We should be together, whatever happens." 

Galen closed his eyes, shudder of emotion running through him before he nodded slowly. "Alright. I think I know better than to argue with the two of you." 

"Smart man," Lyra said affectionately. She turned to Bodhi. "We'll see you in the black."

Bodhi looked over at the family, worried and reassured at once by the amount of faith they were putting in him. "Let's get this thing." 

* * *

Bodhi twisted into his flight harness and took a shaky breath.

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew these were long odds. They might not even catch the thing. They could jump into rubble and nothing else and the quiet mutiny would be brought to light with nothing to show for it. 

If that happened, they’d need a scapegoat. Bodhi could do the math. It’d be him. 

It might be Galen, but they would kill Galen. And Galen needed to stay alive for the next time they caught the monster, so the next attack knew where to hit. Bodhi supposed it might be Cassian, but he was the Rebellion’s favored ghost, with plenty enough people who owed their lives to his blaster or his intel. Bodhi, though, nominal leader of the pilot attack, person who made the call to jump, newcomer…

Yeah, it’d be him. 

Bodhi knew the risks. He decided to jump anyway. If they let it go, if they let the Death Star jump to the shadows between stars again...they likely wouldn’t get their chance until it showed up to vaporize another planet. Billions of lives lost. So Bodhi could be a little safer? 

No. This was the right call. And Bodhi would deal with the fallout as it came. 

As he jogged toward the maintenance bay his fighter was hiding in, Bodhi had the thought that maybe it was just as well Shara wasn’t here. As much as he wanted to have Green at his back, this would make it easier to keep her out of the line of fire. 

His comm chimed, and he answered. “Rook.”

“What’s the ETA to launch?” Cor’s voice came over his comms.

Bodhi checked his chrono. “Fifteen and counting. Ground crew giving you any issues?” 

“Roger. And none. They’re assuming it’s an approved strike. More than happy to help.” 

“Good.” 

He felt a little guilty, driving a rift between the pilots and the ground crew, but plausible deniability seemed to be the best gift he could give the maintenance workers. 

Cor, all business, said, “After you launch, I’m going to scramble Green and Blue to your location. You’ll beat them there, but they should be able to reinforce you.” 

“Should we rally them now?” Bodhi asked as he rounded the corner and, with a profound feeling of relief, saw his X-Wing there. He had missed it. 

“No, better for comms security if we get you all clear first.” 

“Got it. Good luck, Cor.” 

“May the Force be with you, Rook.” 

One of the few ground crew in on the deception, a normally cheerful Togruta—today with a grim-looking expression on his face—jogged up to Bodhi. “Kept your girl purring for you.” 

Bodhi clapped him on his shoulder. “Thanks, Joriien. I appreciate it.” 

Here we go. Bodhi took a deep breath and stepped toward the ship. He stopped when he saw a tall human figure standing looking tense at the base of the X-Wing's ladder. 

Bodhi couldn’t help the soft smile that carried across his face. “Pretty sure you’re supposed to be on a U-Wing.” 

Galen stepped toward Bodhi with a slight incline of his head. “And I will be. But...I needed to see you, first. Before we launched.” 

Bodhi spread his arms. “Here I am. We don’t have long, though.” 

“I know. I just needed to say something before. In case there wasn’t an after.” Galen cleared his throat. “I...find it difficult to express how grateful I am that you have trusted me. From the beginning to...now, I could count on your faith in me. Even when I disregarded it, you had faith in the cause, faith in the fact that I built a flaw. This wouldn’t be possible without you. Thank you.” 

Bodhi swallowed, looking up at Galen. 

Galen looked off to the side. “That’s what I felt the need to say...thank you for hearing me out. I’ll let you launch.” 

Bodhi reached forward, grabbing at one of Galen’s hands. “Hey. Galen. You’re welcome.” Bodhi closed his eyes, took a slow breath, let himself enjoy the luxury of Galen’s hand in his again. Then he opened his eyes, looking up at Galen. “And thank you. For believing in a scruffy cargo pilot. For helping me find the strength to leave a system that had its claws sunk into me. Everything that's happened aside...I’m so, so grateful for the chance to do this, here. And it wouldn’t have happened without you. Thank you.”

With a pang of regret, Bodhi let go of Galen’s hand. There were other words he could have used, words like, “You have been my safe harbor and guiding light,” or perhaps, more simply, “I love you.” But...Bodhi might be flying to his death. He had never used those words with Galen. It would be unfair to put them on him now. 

If, by some miracle, they both lived and the Death Star was destroyed, there’d be time enough to talk then. Bodhi tipped his head back, didn’t bother with his confident pilot mask. Galen would see right through it. “See you on the other side, Galen.” 

“One way or another.” Galen inclined his head, made an abortive gesture toward Bodhi. He seemed to think better of it, placed his hand firmly in his pockets. 

“May the Force be with you,” Bodhi said, words of faith clumsy in his mouth, but still feeling important.

“And with you.” Galen gave a slight bow, then walked off toward the U-Wing hangar. 

Bodhi took a deep breath and pulled himself together as he circled the ship, one last safety check before launch. He flicked his comm on, “This is Rook. Red Leader, Gold Leader, check in.” 

“This is Red Leader, safety checks complete, ETA for launch, three minutes.”

“This is Gold Leader, safety checks complete, ETA for launch, three minutes.” 

“Very good. Synchronize chronos, leave in three from my mark, three, two, one, mark.” 

“Acknowledged. Rook, we need a name for you,” Red Leader said.

Bodhi blinked, pausing halfway up the ladder. His mind a blank, he muttered the first thing that came to mind. “I’m not really attached to any squadron. More of a rogue ship?” 

“Acknowledged, Rogue Leader,” said Gold Leader, amusement in his voice.

“That makes us Rogue Two.” Cassian’s voice came in over the comms. “Strapped in and ready for launch.”

Bodhi shook his head. At least when he was in the middle of battle he’d be too busy to worry about the ridiculous name. Bodhi felt himself settle as he ran through the pre-flight checklist. The chrono counted down. Bodhi toggled his comm on again. “Thirty seconds to launch.” 

“Red Squadron ready for launch.” 

“Gold Squadron is ready for launch.”

“Rogue One, ready for launch,” Bodhi said, as all the toggle lights turned green. “Launch in five, four, three, two, one…”

Bodhi hit the throttle, flying out of the hangar, his ship falling in with two full squadrons. Nearly three dozen pilots, against a weapon that destroyed worlds. 

They were committed, nowhere to go but forward.

The base fell away behind them, then the familiar judder of the ship breaking atmosphere, viewscreen shifting from blue to black. Bodhi reached for the lever and pulled, the universe blurring and stretching as his ship raced past the stars. 

* * *

They came in on the far side of the system, mindful of the new asteroid field where Chandrila used to be. Bodhi’s breath caught, but he shoved it aside. Time to mourn later. The time to fight was now. 

He turned his scanners on and blinked as the system still reported four planets in the Chandrilian system. There weren’t, now there were only three, which meant... Bodhi found the “planet” that was off-orbit from where it should be. He marked its position and sent a tightband communication over to Galen’s U-Wing. “Possible target lock, confirm?” 

There was a pause, and Galen answered, his voice flat and tight, “Confirmed, target in-system.” 

Bodhi flipped over to a short-range comm, something that would reach Red and Gold Squadrons. “Target lock confirmed. Death Star is in-system. Target systems updating. Use the debris for cover, work your way through toward the weapon’s position. The longer we stay quiet, the better shot we have.”

Acknowledgement chattered through his comms as the ships slowly hunted their way through the asteroid field, making their approach. Bodhi felt calm, for once, his pounding heart and screaming thoughts silent in the face of a clear job to do and people that needed him. 

As they approached, Bodhi said, “Prepare for attack run. Remember, watch for the laser aperture, the relevant trench runs thirty degrees south from it. First run targets the turbolaser entrenchment. U-Wing runs next, watch for the target to be marked. Use that to calibrate your target lock.” 

“Acknowledged, Rogue Leader.” 

“Andor, keep the U-Wing hidden until the first run clears the turbolasers.” 

“Acknowledged, Rogue Leader,” came Cassian’s voice.

“Red Leader, Gold Leader, on me,” Bodhi said. “X-Wings, lock S-Foils in attack position.” 

As they approached the Death Star, Bodhi was caught up in the minuta of flying. Keep the ship steady through the magnetic field, track the target. Keep in a tight line, present as little as possible to the enemy’s sensors. The longer they could stay an undefined blip on the Death Star’s sensors, the longer it would take for…

Turbolaser fire shot out from the surface, and the world dissolved into fire and the fight. 

Quick dodge down, roll away, watch the battlefield and cover Gold and Red. Bodhi was in a strange position, not an official member of either squadron, stuck slightly removed, but able to watch and fill the gaps. He didn’t engage so much in the one-on-one fighting, but tried to keep things coordinated, tried to keep people together. 

Gold made a bombing run on the trench, Gold Three and Five dismantling three turbolasers each, and seven more picked off by the rest of the squad. Battlefield slightly clearer, Red’s X-Wings swept into the trench, making neat work of the deeper entrenchments. Bodhi watched, and once there seemed to be a clear opening he snapped into his comm, “Andor, you’re clear, let’s get that target painted.” 

“Copy that,” Cassian said, U-Wing appearing from the asteroid field and hauling for the Death Star. 

Bodhi kept the squadrons tight on the trench run, watching, tense, for any additional target blips to appear on his screen. The TIE complement for the Death Star was...unfathomably large. The more that they could get done before the TIEs launched, the better. 

As Bodhi was caught up coordinating fighters and scanning for new targets, Dreis, the Red Leader, came in over comms, “Rogue Leader, we have a target. Clear to begin run?” 

Bodhi winced, feeling chastised despite the neutral tone. He should have been more on top of that. He shouldn’t be leading this damn thing in the first place. 

But he was. So he had better do the best he could. 

“Red Squadron, make certain the U-Wing makes it out of skirmish safely, then focus in on being a defensive net. Skies are clear now, but they’re not going to stay that way. Gold, you’re clear to begin your bombing run. Three in the trench at a time, keep rotating it in and out, keep ‘em confused.”

Bodhi joined the defensive net and watched, tense, as the first bombers began their run. There were a few stray turbolaser bolts from surviving defense turrets, but the two escort ships handled them easily. Gold Two, the lead ship, lined up a shot on the access port and...missed.

There was some muttered grumbling, and Bodhi ordered, “Keep the downtime on the trench low. Next trio, in.”

Bodhi was relieved when the three ships pulled out of the trench in a tight, banking curve, just in time for the next three to drop in. Good. They hadn’t had a lot of time to practice the transition. But that seemed to go smoothly—

Bodhi’s thoughts were interrupted by multiple contacts on his radar. He swallowed, swinging his ship around to face them. “We’ve got company. TIEs finally decided to join the party. Keep those transitions tight, stay close and focused on the trench. We’re on defense, don’t go flying off TIE sniping.”

“Roger.” 

“Acknowledged.” 

“Copy that, Rogue Leader.” 

Bodhi’s heart soared. He was doing it, he was confident and giving the orders and people were listening. He felt that way for one glorious moment, then the TIEs arrived with a scream and the battle crashed down around him. 

Bodhi was caught up in the back and forth with TIEs, desperately trying to stay alive and keep them clear of the trench. A TIE swept fast and low over his ship, clipping his deflector shield. Bodhi threw the ship into a tight roll, and as he came out of it, managed to get the TIE lined up in his sights. He shot, it went down, and he let out a small whoop of glee. 

His stomach twisted as he realized one of the TIEs had made it through the defense net, and one of the ships in the trench was spiralling out and crashing into the wall. Danurs.

“Fuck,” Bodhi said, belatedly hoping his comm hadn’t been on.

Still, the two escort ships shifted, one forward, one back, pinning the TIE in a pincer motion, then it was gone. The forward ship lined up a shot on the access hatch and…

Miss. 

It went on like that, one ship after another missing their shot. The squadrons did their best, but TIEs slowly whittled them down. The Alliance took out five, ten TIE fighters for every one they lost...but the TIEs had the advantage of quantity, more and more waking up every minute.

Someone needed to make that shot. Bodhi switched from tracking the current run to watching the targeting system. He ordered the ships into a tighter defense. They didn’t have the numbers anymore to push the net out. 

The TIEs kept coming. Bodhi fought where he could, watched where he could, managing to keep the trench run coordinated. He looked away to track the fighters dodging in and out of the trenches, then looked back to his scanner, finding nearly twenty new snubfighter blips on the radar. Bodhi let out a quiet curse, tried to figure out how to reconfigure the defense net. 

Then Bodhi heard perhaps the sweetest sound he could have heard in that moment. “Blue Leader, standing by.” 

“Blue Two, standing by.” 

“Blue Four, standing by.” 

As the fighters checked in, the scanner registered, shifting them over to friendly. Bodhi scrambled for his comm, “Glad you could join us. Right now, help shore up the defenses and standby for trench run rotation.” 

There was silence for a moment, and Bodhi belatedly realized he had just given an order to the General in charge of Starfighter Command. Shit. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to do that. Maybe now that Merrick was actually here, he’d naturally—

“We’re calling him Rogue Leader,” said Dreis over comms. 

“Copy that, Rogue Leader,” Merrick said. “You heard the man, Blue, fall in.”

Blue Squadron fell against the TIE fighters with fresh sound and fury, and Bodhi breathed a sigh of relief as his scanner cleared of TIE contacts. For a moment. More were coming, he had no doubt. 

Merrick dodged into the trench with Blue Five and Eight, taking his own run. Bodhi held his breath as he approached the exhaust port. Lined up the shot and…

Miss. 

Fuck.

Back to it. 

With three squadrons, it was easier to keep up defenses. Their losses dropped dramatically, and TIEs that flung themselves against the defense bulwark were quickly driven back. But still, one ship lost, then another, and the tension mounted. 

Miss.

Miss. 

Bodhi kept himself off the rotation. He wasn’t skilled at targeting, he had enough to keep track of outside. He was barely a part of the defense net, but he kept people moving, made certain everyone was covered, babbled encouragement and motivation when he could. 

They just had to keep up the pressure. One of them would make the shot. 

“Fuck, are we certain this is even going to work?” Gold Nine growled as he pulled off the trench after missing his shot. “Why are we doing this?” 

“Cut the chatter,” Bodhi barked, trying to sound like every flight instructor he had ever feared. “Make the shot, and we’ll find out.” 

“Copy, Rogue Leader.” Gold Nine only sounded a little resentful. Bodhi breathed a shaky sigh of relief and watched the field. He wondered how long they had before they drew the attention of a Star Destroyer. They were gnats against a bantha, at the moment, but sooner or later the Death Star would be reinforced. They had to make the shot before then. 

Bodhi’s heart sank as a massive ship entered the system. He got on comms. “Prepare for reinforcements. The plan stays the same, keep the pressure on, make the shot. This might get ugly.” 

“Roger, Rogue Leader.”

“Who the devil is Rogue Leader?” A raspy, wet-sounding voice came across the comms.

“Unknown ship, identify yourself,” Bodhi snapped, trying to split his attention between the threat readout, the actual threats of the TIE fighters, and the new voice coming through the comms. 

“This is Admiral Raddus with the _Profundity_ , and I repeat my question. Who are you?” 

Friendly. Okay. “This is Bodhi Rook, Rogue Leader. I’m coordinating the strike. If you have any snubfighter squadrons, they can integrate with our defense net, we can use the reinforcements. Stay away from the weapon front, the focusing dish. We’re not certain whether or not they’ll choose to fire again, but it’s better not to take the chance.”

“Rook, I am the Admiral of the Alliance fleet. You are in no position to be ordering my forces.” 

“And I’m the person with the plan for how to take this thing down. You can stay over there as a distraction if you like, but talk to me if you actually want to make a difference,” Bodhi snapped back. 

Bodhi replayed what had just come out of his mouth and blanched. If he didn’t die by firing squad for mutiny, he was going to get strung up for that bit of insubordination.

“Rogue Leader, we’re beginning our next attack run, copy.” Merrick’s voice. 

Bodhi looked confused at the comms board. They hadn’t been checking for every run. He shrugged, then pushed to respond, “Copy that, Blue Leader, proceed.” 

His comm pinged with a private message. Merrick again. “I know Raddus, why don’t you let me handle him?” 

Bodhi responded on the private line. “Sorry about that, sir. You hardly need my permission.” 

Merrick’s voice was warm. “You’re doing fantastically, son, and this is your show. Raddus just doesn’t know you. You keep the fighters here coordinated, sic me on the Admiral.” 

“Go for it.” 

“Copy that, sir,” Merrick said, emphasis on the honorific. Pride welled up in Bodhi. If he wasn’t careful, his ego would swell so big there wouldn’t be room in the cockpit for his body. He shook his head, focusing back on the battle. 

He ducked back down into the fighter net, quickly winding up skirmishing with a pair of TIE fighters tight on his tail. He threw himself into a quick spiral, shots grazing past his wingtips, and decelerated hard and fast, forcing the two TIEs to go shooting out past him. Bodhi managed to nip one, sending it spiralling down to the Death Star surface, but the other threw itself into a reverse Bodhi grudgingly had to respect, raining fire past his wing. 

With a judder, his ship was hit, lower left truss caught fire, ship shivering out of control. For a moment, Bodhi was back in the simulator, wide-eyed newbie pilot desperate to prove his place, panicking at the slightest mistake. 

Felt like so long ago. Too much had changed.

If he died now, he died now, but he knew he was doing the best he could. Bodhi forced his X-Wing to stay steady and decided to try venting coolant again...just because it hadn’t worked in the sims…

The flames died and the X-Wing stopped shaking, finally able to compensate for the damage to the wing. Bodhi grinned a little. He knew that should have worked. 

Didn’t fix the issue of the TIE on his back, though. Another contact pinged, right behind it, and Bodhi cursed. Wasn’t Raddus supposed to be distracting them? Or were there just really that many TIE fighters?

Bodhi knew the answer. The crew complement of the Death Star edged over a million, the number of TIEs it could potentially field was inconceivably large. It was like hoping to stop a sandstorm one grain at a time. Hopeless. 

Still, nowhere to go but forw—

The second contact fired and the TIE fighter exploded. 

“Pulled your ass out of the fire there, Rook,” a joyously familiar voice said. 

Bodhi whooped. “You always do, Bey. You drag the rest of Green here with you?”

“You hardly need ‘em, but I decided to let them join the party.”

“So gracious, Green Four,” Kass said, voice dry. “Rogue Leader, this is Green Leader, where do you want us?” 

“Stay with the defense net, keep it tight, we’ll need to get fresh blood in the trench run.” 

“You taken a run at it yet?” Shara asked.

“No,” Bodhi said. “Too busy keeping things coordinated. I’m sending over the rotation now.”

“Received,” Kass replied.

“Modified,” Shara insisted. “Rook, take the next run. I’ll cover you with Green Two.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” said Green Two.

“Al...alright,” Bodhi said.

It wasn’t much longer before another miss meant the current run came to an end and, with a twinge of anticipation, Bodhi slipped into the trench, Shara and Green Two close on his tail in their A-Wings. Bodhi breathed slowly, in and out through his nose, and he forced himself to be calm, be quiet, to focus on the task in front of him. For just a few moments, it wasn’t his responsibility to coordinate the entire battle. It wasn’t his job to keep things running. It was just him and the target. 

Bodhi tried to find a calm focus, let himself be lost in the controls in a way he hadn’t since the battle began. He had always been more comfortable here than anywhere else, feeling free and agile, powerful in a way he never was outside of the cockpit. He chased that peace, relaxing into it. 

The trench walls flew by and the target came up and Bodhi reached into his center, hands on the yoke, felt the rhythm of the timing and finally, with the gentlest of squeezes, released the shot…

...a moment too late, and the blaster bolts skittered off the far end of the exhaust port. 

“Fuck!” Bodhi yelled, remembering at the last minute to slam his mic off. “Shit. Pile of—”

Bodhi pulled out of the trench, eventually calming down enough to flip his mic back on.

He fell back in with the defense net. 

“We’ll get ‘em next time,” Shara said. 

Bodhi took a breath, eyes tracking the TIE targets. “Someone will. We’ve got the best pilots in the galaxy here, one of them is going to make the shot.”

Bodhi rejoined the defense net. The next team missed, the next, and Bodhi felt something like despair growing inside him. They'd be picked off one by one. The Death Star would have time to finish its cycle and jump away… 

No, no, they just had to hold the line. 

Biggs, Janson, and Raner entered the trench run. Biggs just barely missed his shot. Wedge, Shara, and Cylos flew in after them. 

Two TIE fighters slipped in on their tail. Bodhi pivoted his X-Wing, making neat work of one. He held his breath as he watched the other scream toward the ships, spitting fire. The TIE's wing caught on the snubfighter's fin, sending both fighters spiralling to a violent end at the edge of the trench. 

Cylos. Not Shara. Bodhi didn’t like the little voice inside his head that was relieved by that, but he couldn’t deny it existed. Bodhi watched the readout, found a place to fill a hole left in the defense net, and flew at it. He watched the screen, ten thousand contacts screaming around them. 

No, just focus on the fight in front of you, focus on keeping everything calm and—

“Holy shit.” Shara’s voice came soft over the comm. 

“Bey’s shot went in!” Wedge shouted, much louder.

Bodhi blinked, frozen for a split second, then scrambling for the comms. His voice wavered as he spoke, excitement making it go high. “All fighters, retreat. Repeat, disengage. Shift power to rear deflector shields and engines.” 

The squadrons pulled away. A TIE pulled out, close on Bodhi’s tail, and Shara clipped it from behind, pulling up past him. “That’s two you owe me, Rook,” she said, voice giddy on their private comm. 

Instead of answering her directly, Bodhi opened up an all squadron comms band. “A-Wings, don’t wait up for us, you don’t have any _fucking_ shields and I would hate for you to get caught in the blast.” 

With a laugh over their private channel, Shara said, “Eat space dust, slowpoke,” kicked her A-Wing into high gear, and shot past him. 

Bodhi didn’t bother to keep the grin off his face. All that was left was to fly away from the Death Star as quickly as they possibly could. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPACE BATTLES! 
> 
> They are hard to write. I'm jealous of cinematographer's right now, and all their lovely visual tools. Just trust me, it looked really cool, alright? ;)
> 
> _(NOTE: Due to a Failure of Math, Critical Flaws is actually going to be 12 chapters long. Which means. That this. Is the last week of posting! Ahhhhhh.)_


	11. Galen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that the flagship is italicized correctly comes to you courtesy of [Aeshna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshna/), as well as countless other grammatical catches and spelling quick-fixes. Thank you bunches. :)

Galen clenched his hands into fists and stared at the Death Star through the viewport. He counted in his head. 

Time for the shot to go down the exhaust port. Time for the exhaust port to feed into the reactor chamber. Time for the reactor chamber to catch, setting off the chain reaction that would destroy the weapon. 

Eight seconds.

What if they had found it? The Death Star had been quietly, inexplicably absent for months. What if they had found his deception? Dismantled his flaw. Left the exhaust port there to lure them in. 

Nine seconds.

What if this was all in vain? Many lives had been lost, the cost of this strike had been dear. They would hang Galen for his crimes. They would hang Bodhi. Bodhi, who didn’t have to fight but did it anyway, the quiet torch-bearer of Galen’s vengeance. 

Ten seconds.

Bodhi had taken point, he had done most of the recruiting. For all that this was Galen’s weapon, Galen’s problem, Galen’s plan, it was Bodhi who would bear the brunt of it failing.

“Please,” Galen whispered, watching the Death Star.

Eleven seconds. 

What if this last hope died? What if Galen had unleashed an unstoppable horror on the galaxy? What if the punishment that best fit his crime was watching planet after planet burn, unable to stop it? 

Twelve sec— 

Galen was blinded by pure white. Where there had once been a solid, seemingly invulnerable monolith of power, there was a flash, a ring. 

Galen blinked, clearing the spots from his eyes. The Death Star lingered in an afterimage, a dark black spot where the brightness had been a moment before. As he watched the now-empty space, even that last vestige of Galen’s nightmare faded from view, and all that remained was dust. 

Galen collapsed. There was no other word for it. All the tension, all the guilt, all the sick dread he had lived with for the past thirteen years, it all left him at once. The pain he had carried with him, that unwelcome companion he was constantly aware of, perpetually repressing, was gone. In the emptiness of its exit, Galen was suddenly aware of how overwhelmingly oppressive it had been. 

For a timeless age, Galen was unable to do anything other than know the weight of what he had been living under by its absence. 

The chaos around him gradually filtered through his awareness, and he heard the comms light up with enthusiastic whooping and hollering. The pilots sounded mad, feral with joy, screaming in triumph. Over their enthusiastic chatter, Galen heard Bodhi’s voice ring through, “Alright, alright, prepare to jump back to base, we can do all our celebrating then.” 

The comm devolved into whether or not anyone required the _Profundity_ ’s hanger to transport, cutting out abruptly as the U-Wing shuddered into hyperspace. 

Galen became aware of a soft hand along his jaw, resting on his knee. He dragged his head up. Lyra was kneeling in front of him. As he leaned back, she moved forward, filling the space between them. He looked at her, realized his cheeks were wet, realized he was shaking with tears. 

“It’s over, love. It’s done.” Lyra’s voice cracked, her own emotion thick. “It’s _done_.” 

Galen reached down, laid his hands on either side of Lyra’s face, holding her and staring at her. He didn’t think...he had never thought…

“We’re together,” he finally said. “It’s gone and we’re still together.” 

Lyra nodded, head moving between his hands, sniffling slightly as a huge smile spread across her face. “Yes, love. It is. We are.” 

Galen leaned down, pulling Lyra closer, and kissing her slowly. Their tears ran together as they kissed, Galen trying to say without words how much she meant, how much it mattered she was here, how much hope he had when he considered a future that tied the two of them together. How much he loved her. 

Eventually, they slowed, Galen still shuddering as he drew their foreheads together, stayed there pressed against her until they breathed together. 

“Gale, it’s done. Gale.” Lyra murmured nonsensical reassurances as she stroked her hands through his hair, along his shoulders. “It’s gone.” 

There was a solid warmth at his side as Jyn slid in, leaning against him, her head on his shoulder, grabbing her mother’s hand. Galen threw his arm around Jyn, holding her close. 

The Death Star broke their family. But they survived and it hadn’t, and that...that was victory. 

* * *

Cassian set the ship down gently, taking a deep breath as he stepped out of the cockpit. “We’re back.” 

Galen reluctantly untangled from Lyra and Jyn, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Jyn’s head as he stood up, looking over at Cassian. “So, how do you think the reception will be?” 

Cassian shrugged. “We’ll have to see. But there’s no more planet-killer. That’s most important.” 

Galen stepped forward, clapping his hand on Cassian’s shoulder. “You’re right. Thank you. For showing me how to fight back against inaction. Your skills made this possible. It’s been an honor working alongside you, Cassian.” 

Cassian nodded. “Likewise. May we stay on the same side of the blaster from here on out,” he said, something that resembled a grin sliding across his face. 

“That almost looked like a human emotion!” Jyn said, ruining the moment. 

“He does have those from time to time. What makes this one noteworthy is that it’s positive,” K-2SO said, not helping. 

Jyn grinned over at K-2SO, and then reached past Galen to do a complicated handshake with the droid. 

“Well, I don’t think we can avoid the waiting crowd much longer.” Cassian shoved his way pointedly through Jyn and K-2SO’s handshake. 

“Here we go,” muttered Lyra as the door hissed open. 

Galen stood up straighter as he prepared to face the Alliance Council. This meeting would certainly look different than the last few he had been to. Better or worse, was the question. 

It was strangely quiet in the hangar, the U-Wing beating the squadrons and the _Profundity_ back to base. A loose group of the Councilors and ranking officers stood there. They didn’t look angry. More...hopeful. 

Mon Mothma stepped forward first, her face still blotchy but her voice calm. “Captain Andor. Doctor Erso. We received a report...that the weapon has been destroyed?” 

“Yes,” Cassian answered. “The Alliance fleet was able to target and exploit Dr. Erso’s flaw to bring about the full destruction of the Death Star.” 

Explosive muttering came from the various officials at that. Mon Mothma held up a hand, considering the two of them with a level gaze. “And is it still the _Alliance_ fleet?” 

“The actions taken by the fleet were only taken in support of the Alliance’s greatest goal. To bring about the destruction of the Galactic Empire, and to make forever free all beings in the galaxy.” Cassian’s voice shifted, and it sounded like he was quoting something. 

Mothma’s face shuttered, and with a spike of respect, Galen realized that Cassian was quoting Mothma’s own Declaration of Rebellion back at her. 

Mothma looked around, meeting the eyes of the other council members around her. With a formal nod of her head, she said, “We applaud your team and the Starfighter Corps for anticipating our order, and taking swift and ready action in order to ensure the destruction of the Death Star."

Galen and Cassian exchanged a small smile. “Our pleasure,” Galen said. 

Cassian was shortly called away with the U-Wing’s sensor data for debriefing. Nobody seemed to know what to do with Galen and his family until Mon Mothma took a decisive step forward, gesturing for Galen to walk with her, around the shuttle and then a short way beyond it. Behind him, Galen could hear the murmur of conversation pick up as people started asking Lyra and Jyn what had happened, desperate to get the story. 

Mon Mothma opened her mouth, and for a second it looked like she was about to start talking to Galen. But then her reserve shattered, her eyes went glassy, and she looked away. 

“I’m so sorry,” Galen said. “I never wanted—”

Mothma held up a hand. “No. I am the one who should apologize. It’s clear now, as it should have been all along, that your intention was always to ensure the destruction of the Death Star. We should have been aiding you from the start. Perhaps if we had—” 

Mothma’s neck muscles worked as she clenched her hands at her sides. 

Galen shook his head. “No. Chancellor, the fault for the destruction of Chandrila lies solely with those that pulled the trigger.” 

She gave him a wan smile. “Do you really believe that?” 

Galen turned his palms up in front of him, gesture somewhere between a shrug and an appeal. “I try. It’s a little easier, as time goes on.” 

Mothma nodded, and it looked like she was about to say something, but before she could, the hangar filled with the sound of dozens of X-Wing engines. 

The squadrons had returned. 

With a short nod, Mothma stepped away from him, making her way toward the knot of personnel waiting for the pilots to disembark. There was an anticipation in the air as the first hatch popped open and General Merrick emerged. 

Mothma stepped to the front of the group, people parting in front of her. There was a moment of tension, before she, with a small smile, said, “Congratulations, Blue Leader, on the successful mission.” 

Merrick grinned, toggling his comm as he said, “Good news, we’re not getting court-martialed today!” 

The pilots erupted from their cockpits like a joyous hurricane. There was screaming, hollering, all the post-battle enthusiasm finding its way out in a sea of orange. 

Galen held back, scanning the gleeful mob, watching each new ship’s cockpit open with a growing tension, only relaxing when he saw Bodhi’s head pop out from the top of an X-Wing, huge smile on his face. 

Bodhi made his way down his ship’s ladder, clapped on the shoulder by one pilot, hair tousled by another, enthusiastically hugged by a third. He stumbled his way through the congratulatory crowd until a woman with a mop of curly dark hair spilling out of a bun shouted, “Rook!” and tore across the room toward him. 

Bodhi lit up and started running at her in return, they crashed in an enthusiastic twirl that led to her being hoisted up over Bodhi’s head, braced on his shoulders, shriek-laughing the entire time. Flashes of light from one holocamera after another going off peppered the crowd as Bodhi held up her hand and yelled, “Best damn shot out of all of us! Shara Bey, everyone!” 

The group somehow got even louder after that, orange mob around the pair of them, and Galen found himself smiling broadly on the outskirts. He had no particular desire to throw himself into the fray, this was enough, to know that the plan worked, that the Death Star was gone, and that, if he shared in some measure of the death, he deserved some portion of this celebration, too. 

He had done it. 

It was over. 

He had laid his plans, but he had never expected to see them come to completion. To be alive on the other side...

So much of his life shaped to this purpose, his hubris causing the Death Star to exist, his determination seeing the Death Star gone. What came next? Who knew? Galen was free. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he was _free_.

Galen leaned back against the U-Wing and laughed. He was looked demented, he was sure, but he couldn’t care. He was giddy with joy, mad with delight, a vast future of hope rushing up and piling over him. 

He had Lyra. 

He had Jyn. 

“Think that’s the happiest I’ve ever seen you.” 

Galen opened his eyes. Standing in front of him, elated smile and flushed with excitement, was Bodhi. 

Galen’s smile only grew. 

Bodhi looked up at Galen, smile shifting into something with more gravitas, joy still in his eyes, but something closer to adoration on his face. “You did it.” 

No. Galen didn’t do it. Galen did a piece, a portion, laid his cornerstone. But when Galen reached the end of his abilities, the mission had been picked up and carried forward, by Cassian, by Lyra, by Jyn, and by this man, this extraordinary man. 

Bodhi, who had looked at the broken shell of a scientist beaten down by the Empire and somehow seen Galen. Who had trusted Galen. Believed Galen. Who had been willing to give his life in service to Galen’s dream. 

Thank the Force that price hadn’t been demanded of him. 

Galen looked at Bodhi, and scrambled for the words that would let him explain some fragment of the vast and indescribable connection he felt with Bodhi. 

Bodhi shivered, his eyes going dark as he held Galen’s gaze. 

The emotion swimming in Galen doubled, tripled, but no words came. Speech was driven from his mind by joy, gratitude, affection, honor, elation, attraction…they spiraled in and through each other, desperate for expression, demanding release.

Galen’s words were entirely inadequate. So he gave up on speaking. He laid his palms at the corner of Bodhi’s jaw, curled his fingers around the back of Bodhi’s head, and pulled Bodhi into a kiss. 

Bodhi froze for a fraction of a second then, with a muffled noise of enthusiasm, grabbed at Galen’s hips, going up on his toes and pressing into the kiss. 

Galen didn’t know the words that would describe how he felt. It was too large, too close. Instead, he kissed with everything he had in him, in the desperate hope that, somehow, it would be enough. He tried to pour into the kiss everything he should have said and didn’t, everything he wanted to say, but couldn’t yet. 

Bodhi’s hand slid up Galen’s chest, pulling back as he pushed Galen away. Thumb slowly tracing back and forth along Galen’s chest, Bodhi bit his lip, eyes flicking over Galen’s face. A mesmerizing smile bloomed, and he softly said, “Yeah?” 

“Yes,” Galen responded, the word punching out of him.

Bodhi’s smile turned scandalous, and his hand on Galen’s chest tightened to a fist, yanking Galen back down into another kiss. 

Galen didn’t know how long he stayed there, holding Bodhi as close as he possibly could, warm body in his arms and warm lips against his, feeling whole. Gradually, he became aware of another presence at his side and pulled back just far enough to see Lyra there, looking delighted.

“Finally,” she said. 

Galen’s grip tightened on Bodhi, half-worried he would bolt. Galen shot Lyra a pleading look, hoping she would understand this, this wild and delightful feeling that Galen had no hope of understanding himself. 

Bodhi started pushing back against Galen’s hand, his smile affectionate when Galen was reluctant to let him go. “Don’t worry,” he said, giving Galen a quick peck, “not going far.” 

Galen somehow managed to drag his hands free of Bodhi, who wiggled his way out of Galen’s arms...and then held out his own arms to Lyra. 

Lyra laughed as she stepped up next to Bodhi, laughter turning into a giggle as Bodhi pulled her close and placed a smacking kiss against her cheek. She was a little pink as she shook her head, pulling back and holding Bodhi’s face between her hands. “I’m so proud of you.” She looked over at Galen. “So proud of both of you.” 

Galen reached forward, wanting his arms around both of them, but before he could, Lyra stepped back and gently shoved Bodhi at Galen again. With a tiny smile she said, “Enjoy yourselves. I’ll find you later.” She ducked back and rounded the corner of the U-Wing.

Galen reached forward, grabbing Bodhi again, drawing him close. Bodhi went easily, an adoring look on his face. The rest of the world faded out as Galen was caught up in those brown eyes. It was just him and Bodhi, finally, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we are all Lyra. Finally. Sheesh.
> 
> This Friday is the conclusion! I'm starting to get emotional. Thank you all for reading and commenting along. Want to scream about emotions with me? Leave a comment, or find me [on Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sassysnowperson)


	12. Lyra / Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is it! It's been an amazing ride, thank you all for reading along with me. Huge credit to [Aeshna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshna/), not only for the beta, but for the inspiration, the cheerleading, and for managing by the skin of her teeth to keep us ahead of the posting schedule.

Lyra bounced slightly as she moved, not entirely able to keep her excitement in. Galen had looked so happy. Bodhi too. And Galen hadn’t done anything stupid like apologizing. And Bodhi hadn’t done anything dumb like running away. 

(Instead, he had wrapped his arms around her, lips against her cheek.)

Lyra hoped she wasn’t blushing too obviously. Still, better, right now, to give them some privacy. Lyra had spent more time alone with both of them then either had spent with each other. Let them settle, and later…

Later they could see how they fit. 

As Lyra returned to the celebration proper, she nearly collided with Jyn, who was flushed with enthusiasm...and smelled of alcohol. “Having fun, darling?” 

“We did it! And nobody wants to kill Papa anymore!” Jyn said, tossing her arms over Lyra’s shoulders. 

Lyra drew Jyn into a hug, then they half-separated, one of Jyn’s arms still over her shoulder, her head resting on Lyra. “Where is Papa, anyway?” 

“He found Bodhi.” 

Jyn groaned. “When you ‘he found Bodhi,’ do you mean…”

“They’re kissing.” 

Jyn started to pull back, looking around angrily. Lyra used her arm around Jyn’s waist to cinch her closer. “No. Nope.”

“But he—”

“It’s fine.”

“But you—”

“Not now, Jyn.” 

Lyra let Jyn go, moving in front of her and meeting her eyes. “Baby girl. Look at me. I’m happy.” Lyra carefully let some of her excitement escape, let it crinkle her eyes and curl her toes and grow across her face in a smile.

Jyn wrinkled her nose. “He’d better treat you well.” 

“I think he will.” Lyra stepped forward, hugging Jyn again. “We’re in a good place. This is a good time. I promise, darling, it’s what I want.” 

“Fine. I won’t go yell at Papa.” 

“Don’t yell at Bodhi, either.” 

“I wasn’t going to yell at Bodhi!” Jyn sounded indignant.

Lyra arched her eyebrow. 

Jyn shrugged. “I like Bodhi.”

Lyra couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re rather proving my point, baby girl.” 

The crowd flowed around them, Kes eventually dragging Jyn off to tell the story of how she tackled him to the ground and wrestled away his comm in order to save the Rebellion. It seemed to get more dramatic every retelling, Kes placing himself as the dumb patsy to make Jyn look better. Lyra smiled softly. It was good to see that Jyn had excellent people around her. 

Eventually, there was a ruckus, a knot of pilots whooping and yelling with a flushed-looking Bodhi on their shoulders. 

“Then this motherfucker,” a drunk Biggs Darklighter was proclaiming loudly, hand messily flung back toward Bodhi, “decided that bossing around the leader of the Massassi Group Starfighter Command wasn’t enough, and decided to pull rank on _fuckin’ Admiral Raddus_.”

Bodhi’s protests were drowned in the cheers. 

“Cool as ice, he says, if you want to sit there like a useless lump, you do that—”

“I did not—”

“But if you want to be useful, you need to talk to _me_.” Biggs gave an elaborate point to his chest. 

Lyra laughed at Bodhi's horrified expression. Biggs continued his boasting, but she stopped paying attention as she wandered over to where Galen stood looking content, staring out at the crowd. She slid up behind him, hands around his waist and going up on her toes to rest her chin on his shoulder. “I hope you know how much I like him. He's good with you.”

She felt Galen's stomach spasm under her hands, and Galen turned in her arms until he faced her. “Lyra, I...I don’t love you any less. He’s...Bodhi’s not—”

Lyra laid her index finger against his mouth. “Yes, he most certainly _is_. Gale. Trust me. I’m something of an expert on what it looks like when Galen Erso falls in love.” 

Galen closed his eyes and swallowed slowly, but he didn’t deny it. 

Lyra traced her fingers across his cheekbone. “I’m happy with it. He’s good with you. He’s good _for_ you.” 

Galen hand came up around the back of her head, and he tugged her against his chest. “I love you. So much. Thank you.” 

Lyra snuggled up against Galen. “Besides,” she said, head resting so she could hear his heartbeat, “you moping was more exhausting than you being in love ever could be.” 

She heard Galen’s chuckle rumble through his chest as she leaned against him, the celebration swirling around them becoming background noise, drowned out by his steady heartbeat. 

* * *

Despite the joy, the celebration, the pervasive _relief_ that the Death Star was handled and no longer hanging over them, the press of the celebrating crowd eventually became too much. Galen followed her back to their quarters, sat her on one of the chairs and worked her shoulders with his fingers. 

“I don’t mind if you want to celebrate. This is your triumph,” she managed to get out, even as she went boneless under his touch.

“It belongs to more than me. Besides. I’m where I want to be.” Galen’s thumbs worked at the cords in her neck and they sat together in comfortable silence. Galen’s hands traced down her spine, finding tension and working it out. Eventually he said, “I invited Bodhi back to our room.” 

Lyra inhaled slightly, touch of excitement quickening her breath. “Good.” 

“Lyra, if I ever go too far, or make you uncomfortable…”

“I’ll tell you. Galen, we’re good at this. I’ve had no problem sharing you before.” 

Galen’s hands stopped pressing, just rested warm against her back. “Not like this.” 

Lyra tipped her head back, looking at Galen. “No. I suppose not. But I trust you, Gale.” 

Galen pressed a kiss to her lips, upside-down. Lyra smiled against his mouth. She reached up, ruffling his hair. She didn’t bother with more words, they weren’t really needed. She understood the delight in Galen’s soft smile, she knew he understood the trust and joy in hers. 

The door chimed, and Lyra’s stomach flipped over on itself. She stood up from the chair, nodding to Galen as he crossed over to the door. He keyed it opened and Bodhi stepped through. 

Bodhi looked good, giddy from the adrenaline high but remarkably clear-eyed considering the amount of alcohol being tossed around in the hanger. He had taken a couple minutes to clean up, still in his flight suit, but his hair was neatly pulled back, and a small duffle bag was slung over his shoulders. Was he hopeful, or prepared, Lyra wondered, as she watched him tuck the bag next to the door and look around the room. As he saw Lyra, Bodhi gave a little wave that managed to be both slightly awkward and incredibly attractive. 

“Bodhi,” Galen said, voice going low as the door slid shut behind Bodhi. 

Lyra’s mouth went dry at the timbre of Galen’s tone. 

Lyra noticed that Bodhi's eyes developed a suspicious shine before he looked away from her, back to Galen. “Galen. I’ve missed you.” He looked like he might lean forward to grab Galen, going up on his toes, but then he rocked back down again, eyes darting from Galen to Lyra. “So, is this a talking sort of an evening, or—”

Galen hooked a single finger under Bodhi’s chin and Bodhi froze. Galen slowly moved forward and gently sealed his lips against Bodhi’s. They stayed there for a moment, finger on chin and lips touching the only two points of contact between them. Then Bodhi groaned into the kiss, his hands going up and around Galen’s shoulders, his body molding against Galen’s as he arched into him. 

They were beautiful together, so eager for each other, lines of they way they stretched together artwork. Lyra wished she could take a holo—capture this moment forever—but she was unwilling to tear her eyes away for a second. 

Galen pulled back just far enough to say, “I’ve talked enough. But if there’s something you wanted to say…”

Bodhi gave a contented hum. “I’m good with not talking for a little while longer.” 

Before they could surge back together again, Lyra cleared her throat. They both stopped and looked at her, nearly identical looks of concern on their faces. She smiled, hoping to dispel the worst of their worries. “Would you like some privacy?” She looked from one to the other, reluctant to leave, but wanting them comfortable more. “I’ve no problem giving you some space to become reacquainted.” 

Galen grew a conflicted expression, looking concerned as his eyes flicked back over to Bodhi. 

Bodhi did not appear to have any of Galen’s hesitation. He pulled back a little further from Galen, twisted so he was looking at her. “Lyra, I’d really, really like you to stay.” 

Lyra, battle-hardened survivor that she was, did not blush. She flushed. It was entirely different, and not at all related to the thrill of excitement she got from Bodhi’s appreciative look. 

Bodhi looked up at Galen. “Suppose I do have something to say. Galen, I apologize, this is terribly inappropriate, but I’ve got the worst sort of crush on your wife.” 

The concern left Galen’s eyes, replaced by pure delight. “Oh.” 

Bodhi grinned up at Galen. He looked over at Lyra. “Do you, um, want to come over here?” 

Lyra did. So, she did. She was in front of them before she properly realized what was happening—on her right, Galen, as known as her own heartbeat, to her left, Bodhi, a hope turning into reality. 

Galen reached for her, and so did Bodhi, contact, not embrace, just closing the circuit. Bodhi's tentative touch on her elbow, Galen's warm hand against her shoulder. She leaned into Galen, kissing him, the steps of the dance she knew. 

"You're both so beautiful," Bodhi whispered. 

Lyra shivered at the awe in his voice. His admiration was a heady thing, she felt nearly drunk with it. "Can I kiss you?" she asked, unable to keep the pleading note out of her own voice. 

Bodhi inhaled sharply, the hand on her elbow tightening. "Lyra, you—" he broke off, looking overwhelmed. "Anything," he finally said. "You can do anything." 

Lyra stepped away from Galen (his hand never left her shoulder, thumb smoothing in affirmation over the blade) and reached for him. Bodhi fit himself into her arms carefully, letting her close the last sliver of space between them. 

Bodhi was warm and wet under her mouth. She kissed with a curiosity, learned his flavor, learned the shape of his mouth. He kissed beautifully, eagerness mingling with gentleness, and it nearly broke her heart to pull away again. And yet, somehow, she managed to do so, leaning her forehead against his and whispering, "You know I'm not a requirement for you being with Galen. You and he are welcome to work things out yourselves.” 

Bodhi smiled, she was too close to see it on his lips, but she saw it in his eyes, as they crinkled with happiness. He leaned in and kissed her again, gentle and reassuring. "I like you." He paused, before his eyes slid shut and he added, "I want you. If you're interested."

" _Very interested_ ," Lyra said emphatically. Behind her, she heard Galen huff an amused chuckle. She leaned back a bit and laid her hand along his cheek. "But…" She looked from Bodhi to Galen, and deliberately stepped back from both of them. "Could I watch the two of you? I'd like to see…you're like art."

Bodhi’s took a breath, his gaze shifting from Lyra to Galen. A bit of mischief grew in a curl at the corner of his mouth. “What do you say? Sounds like your wife wants a show.” 

Galen, still looking a little glassy-eyed, blinked slightly. “I think…we should endeavor to give her one.” 

There was a bit of arranging, Lyra winding up settled back in the chair and, with some nervous chuckles, Bodhi and Galen went back to where they had been standing. They stared at each other, amused, maybe a little shy. 

But as Lyra watched that faded, hesitation transforming into anticipation as Galen and Bodhi locked on to each other. Galen’s hand rested at Bodhi’s waist, his thumb slowly drawing along the line of the hipbone. Galen slowly turned all of his focus and intensity toward Bodhi and Bodhi shivered, want moving through him, before it broke in a cresting wave that had Bodhi surging up and crashing against Galen. 

There was a desperation to their kisses, broken noises and choked-off exhalations, hunger in the way they grabbed at each other. Bodhi managed to get Galen’s shirt off, mouthing at his chest while Galen, all intensity and focus, stripped Bodhi’s flack jacket off and seconds later had his hand down the front of Bodhi’s flightsuit. Bodhi shouted, bucking against Galen’s hand. Barely a minute after they started, he had Bodhi shuddering and gasping, collapsing back against a nearby wall.

Lyra nearly protested the poor showmanship of that, but something in the way they looked at each other urged her to keep quiet, to see how they fit. 

Galen pulled his hand out of Bodhi’s flight suit slowly, another spasm moving through Bodhi as he twisted, clearly overstimulated. Galen examined his come-covered hand before licking his way down his index finger. Galen’s eyes fluttered shut and Bodhi gave another moan.

“Kriff, Galen—”

“You’re on even more of a hair-trigger than usual.” 

Bodhi managed a weak, “Fuck you, it’s been awhile.” 

Galen gave his hand another slow lick. “I thought that young man with a moustache was keeping you busy.”

Bodhi’s eyes opened more fully and he caught Galen’s wrist. “Galen Erso. That sounded like jealousy.” He leaned forward, guiding the last two fingers into his mouth and licking them clean himself. Galen’s breath hitched in appreciation. Bodhi pulled off with a mischievous look in his eyes. “Are you actually telling me that while I was trying to fuck my way clear of a broken heart, you were _jealous?_ ” 

“I wouldn’t say jealous—” 

“I would.” Lyra decided that was worth interjecting. “He moped. It was infuriating.” 

“I’m going with her interpretation, lover.” Bodhi used Galen’s wrist to pull him closer, giving Galen a lazy kiss. “Help me get my boots off, you jealous bastard.” 

Galen laughed against Bodhi’s mouth. “Alright.” Galen knelt, helping Bodhi out of one boot and starting on the other. 

Bodhi unzipped his flight suit the rest of the way while Galen worked. “You wanted me to be all yours, hm?” 

“No.” Galen’s protest was more firm this time, and he stopped undoing the second boot. He rested his head on Bodhi’s thigh, looking up. “I wasn’t trying to stake a claim. But I missed you.” 

Bodhi finished fighting his way out of the top of his flight suit and laid his hand on Galen’s head. “I missed you too. You’ve got to know that. I was bloody obvious about it.” 

“I have it on good authority that I am oblivious.” Galen got the second boot off then reached up, peeling Bodhi the rest of the way out of the flight suit.

Bodhi stepped out of the legs, apparently too focused on Galen to be self-conscious about the wet patch along the front of his underclothes. He held his hand out, helped Galen back to standing. “Biggs was fun. He wasn’t you.” Bodhi wrapped his arms around Galen’s neck and kissed him, mouth open and fingers carding through Galen’s hair. 

After a minute, Galen pulled back and said, panting slightly, “I’m sorry. I should have—”

Bodhi pulled Galen’s forehead against his own, fingers still stroking though Galen’s hair. “Let’s not go down the guilt road. We’ve got too much else to do. Come on.” Bodhi put his hands on Galen’s shoulders, started steering him back toward the bed. “We don’t have to miss each other anymore.”

With that, Bodhi proceeded to lay Galen down on the bed and take him apart. For all the passion they'd started with, Bodhi was gentle now, drawing out responses from Galen slowly. Inch by inch he stripped Galen of the rest of his clothes, removing his own as well until it was skin moving against skin on the sheets. He took his time as he ran his hands along Galen’s body, pressed his mouth against Galen’s skin. 

Lyra leaned in, transfixed by the two of them. Bodhi knew Galen, knew his body and his reactions nearly as well as Lyra did. But while Lyra used that knowledge to get in under Galen's skin quickly, get him intimate and vulnerable and human as fast as possible, Bodhi let Galen keep his hesitation. 

Bodhi danced up to the edge and pulled back, drawing out the seduction. He didn't provoke Galen’s desire, he revealed it, his ministrations water along rock; slowly but inevitably, Galen’s reserves were stripped away. 

Lyra shifted, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs, squirming slightly. Bodhi’s care and attention were focused on Galen, but she was far from unaffected. She felt heat building inside her, but she refused to spare the attention for it, too caught up in watching this moment.

When Galen's walls fell, it was comprehensive and consuming. He started keening, shuddering, his hands desperate as they reached for Bodhi, begging softly as he urged Bodhi closer and closer to him. “Bodhi...I...ah...please… _please_!” He twisted in the sheets, shivering, nearly crying, all while Bodhi kept touching him with calm, steady hands. Bodhi urged Galen onward, pulling at his cock with firm, careful strokes, enough to arouse, but surely too slow to bring any sort of relief— 

Galen curled against Bodhi with a shocked sounding moan and fell over the edge, his cock twitching and pulsing in Bodhi's grip. Bodhi smiled, soft and intimate, his free hand coming around the back of Galen's head. “Shhh. It's okay. I got you.”

Lyra found herself gasping along with Galen, leaning forward as she watched the vulnerability laid out in front of her. Whatever she had expected from Galen’s pretty young lover...it wasn’t this. She had expected some emotion, some passion, and two very attractive men moving against each other. And they had delivered that in spades, but this intimacy…Lyra could watch that forever. 

Bodhi caught Lyra’s eye, and jerked his head, mouthing, ‘Come here,’ as he combed his fingers through Galen’s hair. Aftershocks shivered through Galen at the touch.

Lyra, small tremble in her own legs (and an aching heat between them, still secondary to the moment but growing more urgent by the second), made her way over to the bedside. Galen was facing away from her, curled up against Bodhi’s chest. Lyra stepped to the edge of the bed and reached forward, fingertips running down Galen's back. She was shocked at how responsive he was, uninhibited, shivering against Bodhi. 

“You're beautiful,” Lyra murmured. “You're both so beautiful.”

She finally gave in to her craving to touch, reached down and tugged at Galen’s hair, rolling his face over toward her. She sat down on the edge of the bed and kissed him, tongue dancing in his mouth and just the hint of teeth along his lip, enjoying the feeling of him so pliant underneath her. She whispered against his mouth, “Thank you. For letting me see that.”

“I wanted you to,” Galen managed to get out. 

Lyra gave a soft grunt as those bare words knocked past all her defenses. She looked over at Bodhi. “Thank you, too.” 

He smiled up at her and Lyra wished she knew him better. _Anything_ , he had said, and she believed he meant it, but she needed to get this right. This was important. 

So as badly as Lyra wanted to climb over Galen and grind herself against Bodhi, wanted to force him to resolve this fire he had kindled inside of her, she held herself back. She didn't want to break the fragile happiness found here. She contented herself with reaching down and running her hand along his shoulder. 

Bodhi was surprisingly responsive, eyes fluttering shut as he gave a jerking inhale. Lyra ran her hands further along his chest, tracing the line of his collarbone and he made a soft noise high in the back of his throat. He rolled to his back under her touch, and...well no wonder he was so sensitive. His cock curled hard against his stomach, a nearly painful-looking red. 

Lyra sympathized, the throbbing at her center becoming nearly unbearable. She decided to push a little further. Her hand started to trail downward. “You want some help with that?” 

Bodhi grabbed her wrist. “No.” 

“No?” 

Bodhi struggled to sitting. “Not yet. I have a feeling I’m going to be useless after my second go, and I’d like to be awake a little longer.” 

Lyra looked down at Galen, who still looked blissfully happy and utterly incapable of coherent speech. “I think you’ve already got Galen handled this evening.” 

Bodhi nodded. “I know.” He gave her a meaningful look. One hand slowly reached over Galen, brushed against her thigh, and Lyra’s already sensitive skin jumped at the contact. Bodhi’s hand dragged upwards an inch or two, his intention clear. “May I?” 

Lyra and Galen simultaneously made rather strangled noises. Bodhi laughed, breaking some of the building tension. "Shall I take that as a yes?" Bodhi pulled back, tapped on Galen’s outer hip, then climbed over him. Even though she watched Bodhi every step of the way, she didn’t quite realize what was happening until she had a lapful of naked pilot smiling at her. 

“I want you,” Bodhi said, and Lyra nearly missed it, too distracted by that much skin under her hands, by bare arms going around her neck. “Let me learn how to make you happy, too?” 

Lyra groaned in satisfaction, her hands tracing down Bodhi’s back until they landed on his ass, hands digging in as she pulled him toward her. “I'm not so well versed in self-denial that I could turn down an offer like that.” 

“In that case,” Bodhi grinned, his own hands playing at the collar of her shirt, “you are wearing entirely too much clothing.” 

Lyra was a little worried that Bodhi would expect the intensity and intimacy of what he had with Galen. As magnificent as it had been to watch, Lyra wasn’t entirely certain she was capable of that much vulnerability anymore. Bodhi seemed to read her though, and while everything with Galen seemed to carry weight, with Lyra, Bodhi was light. He helped her undress with easy caresses and quick nips, laughter peppering their back and forth. 

It was good, it kept her distracted from the unexpected tension that came from having a near-stranger (a near-stranger she liked tremendously, but a stranger nonetheless) see her vulnerable. Lyra’s body was used to violence in contact. Peace didn't come easily. Bodhi, though, coaxed it out of her.

The heat between her legs quickly became unbearable as his hands stroked across her breasts, down her sides, across her hipbones, hesitating at the crease between her hip and her thigh. His fingers lingered there, so close to where she wanted him to touch, and she twisted under his pressure. 

“May I?” he asked again.

So fucking polite. 

“Bodhi, yes. Hurry it up.” Lyra’s hands twisted in the bedsheets as Bodhi finally got his hands between her legs, thumb slowly teasing around her clit as his fingers dragged through her folds. 

Lyra might have been embarrassed by how slick she already was, how clearly she had enjoyed watching the two of them, if it wasn’t for Bodhi’s smile of delight. His fingers teased along her entrance as his thumb became a maddening point of pleasure. She shoved her legs further apart, opening to his fingers, desperate for some friction. “Bodhi, please.”

Instead of giving her what she wanted and just getting those clever fingers up inside of her, Bodhi pulled his hand away. Lyra whined at the absence, but the heat in her belly went molten when he slowly dragged his fingers across his tongue. 

He leaned down, nuzzling against her thigh. “You taste amazing. I want more. Please, let me have more?” 

“Fuck,” was all Lyra managed to say as she fisted a hand in his hair and dragged his mouth to her cunt.

Bodhi set himself to her pleasure with enthusiasm, his tongue hot against her and inside her and reducing her to a needful, whining thing. Galen stretched out next to her, sweaty and satiated and tangled up her free hand with his. 

Lyra’s face fell towards him, she opened her eyes to see him looking stunned, mouth slightly open as he watched Bodhi eat her out. Something about that look in his eye, his obvious pleasure at seeing her want, caused the churning heat inside of Lyra to coalesce, bucking up against Bodhi's face and twisting against him. He pressed forward, giving her the pressure she needed and she came with a shout, her thighs tightening around his head. 

Bodhi’s mouth stayed on her, gentling her through the climax. Gradually, Lyra relaxed and he pulled off. As he went, he pressed a kiss against her mound, intimate and light all at the same time. Lyra slowly untangled her hand from his hair, smoothing it apologetically, if ineffectually. She smiled at him, and he grinned back at her, and there was an ease between them that caused some last bit of tension in Lyra to unravel, collapsing back on the pillows in contented bliss. 

### Epilogue

Bodhi was certain he looked a mess, his hair disheveled from Lyra’s hand and her pleasure still smeared against his beard. For once in his life, though, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was too damn happy. 

He had taken four squadrons of fighters and led them in a targeted attack on a weapon of terror the Empire he had once worked for built. The attack had worked. People were celebrating, Bodhi wasn’t getting strung up as a mutineer, and the threat of planetary annihilation no longer hung over the galaxy. 

He had pictured the Death Star blowing up many, many times...and his wildest dreams had never come close to how good it felt to see it actually go. 

Bodhi had wanted the Death Star gone with a nearly-unrivaled desperation, and his fantasies reflected that. But then there was a whole different class of wanting, where he didn’t even bother dreaming, because nobody was going to give Bodhi Rook the fucking world on a platter. 

Beyond wanting him, Galen still _cared_. And beyond caring for him, Lyra wanted. 

The platter looked pretty great from here. 

Bodhi grinned over at Galen, who reached for him and pulled him into a kiss. Galen rumbled against his mouth. He seemed to like the taste of his wife on his lover. That thought made Bodhi groan, licking his way into Galen’s mouth with growing desperation. His own ache, which had quietly grown more pressing as Bodhi focused on taking apart the two gorgeous people who had invited him into their bed, pushed to the forefront of his mind as the kiss turned fierce.

Galen seemed to understand, teeth against Bodhi’s lip as a hand went down to wrap around Bodhi’s cock. Bodhi jerked against him, thrusting in counterpoint to his hand. As Bodhi’s world started to narrow to the feeling of thick fingers around his cock, he was suddenly aware of Lyra’s mouth against his torso. She sucked bruising kisses against his side as she reached around his leg and gently ran her fingers up the inside of his thigh. The stimulation was overwhelming, sharp and soft, four hands and two mouths and Bodhi’s senses overloaded as he came, dark edging in around the corners of his eyes as he collapsed against Galen. 

Galen guided him down to the bed, stretching Bodhi out alongside him. Bodhi gave himself over to the care, crashing down from the adrenaline high that had kept him functional so far. He sleepily nuzzled against Galen’s chest, the warm heat of Lyra pressed up along his back, Galen’s hand in his hair. Bodhi couldn’t remember ever in his life feeling this comfortable, and he let himself drift off. 

* * *

His datapad chimed softly, and Bodhi startled awake. The night was still heavy in the room, Galen’s soft snores a comforting sound next to him. Lyra, on his other side, had drawn away, reaching for his datapad and passing it over. Bodhi murmured a quiet thanks as he turned on the pad, rubbing the sleep from his eye. 
    
    
      “I fucking told you so.” -Shara
    

Bodhi’s brow furrowed as he stared at the pad. Then he looked at the next message. 
    
    
    Personnel: Bodhi Rook
    Rank: Lieutenant
    Assignment: Green Squadron, Green 12
    Commanding Officer: Commander Mendia Kass
    Report 0900 for briefing.

“Good news?” Lyra asked, quiet next to him. 

Bodhi nodded. “Back in Green.” One more thing slotted into place.

“Good.” Lyra reached behind her, grabbed a pillow, and carefully placed it between her and Bodhi. 

Bodhi felt some of his ease go away. “Did—should I go? I don’t mean to—”

Lyra waved him off. “No. Unless you want to. My sleeping mind just panics sometimes. Even with Galen.” She looked past Bodhi, over at her husband. “He likes to cuddle. I’m sure you know. I just can’t anymore. It...would be nice...if you could stay.” 

Bodhi felt something warm rise in him, that sense of place and belonging back stronger than ever. “I’ll stay.” 

Lyra reached across her pillow barrier, stroking Bodhi’s arm. “Thank you.” 

“It’s not exactly a hardship,” Bodhi said dryly, slight smile up at her.

Lyra shook her head. “Not just for that.” She looked over at Galen again, radiating such love and care that it nearly had a physical presence in the room. She looked back at Bodhi, and squeezed his arm slightly as she said, “For loving him when I couldn’t.” 

Bodhi very carefully reached over and took hold of Lyra’s hand, pressing his lips against the back of her knuckles. He didn’t have any words for that. She seemed to understand, resting her palm against his cheek for a moment, before nudging at him to go back to Galen. 

“Sleep, dear. We can talk in the morning.” 

It seemed like good advice. Bodhi rolled and wrapped his arms around the sleeping Galen, who made a happy noise and settled against him. 

He felt the heavy drag of sleep weigh on him and he surrendered, starting to drift. His worries would no doubt return, but they could wait until the morning. In this shining moment, he was content. Happy. He belonged. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge, HUGE thank you to everyone who has read along and enjoyed the story, it's been a pleasure to share it with you. 
> 
> I always get a little emotional at the end of these big stories. I hope everyone enjoyed the tale. I have a couple more stories kicking around in this universe, it might be fun to see what happens with Luke and Biggs, that sort of thing. And Krennic is still out there...
> 
> But, vague future fic plans aside, this one has been in the works for a long time, and it's a huge relief to finally share it. Enjoy it? Let me know what you thought in the comments, or come chat with me [on Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sassysnowperson)


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